


The Fruit of His Loin

by Needledolly



Category: Kaze to Ki no Uta | Song of Wind and Trees
Genre: Accidental kidnapping, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christian Character, Family Drama, Father Son Bonding, Father/Son Incest, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sibling Incest, colonialisim, incestous pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needledolly/pseuds/Needledolly
Summary: Auguste Beau dreary poet fled Paris two years ago to escape  the soulless life of a young socialite, In search of authentic inspiration to improve his lackluster career.After news of his brother Pale’s sudden return from his missionary voyage to Africa. He considers returning to his old life, but upon seeing Gilbert his long lost child he is instantly captivated. Seeing a delicate beauty growing within him that he can’t allow to be destroyed by his sadistic brother. Believing himself to have rightful claim to Gilbert. He sets out with the task of befriending the difficult boy meanwhile resigned to living with Pale in his childhood home dredging up and reliving the most humiliating experiences of his young life.Eventually whistling Gilbert off to Paris, where he struggles to look after the boy he has an unnatural attraction too, finding fame through channeling his feelings into his poetry. Dealing with the pressures, rumors, and scandals that have followed him from his peaceful life in Marseille. He’s placed in a precarious position increasingly faced with the looming threat of Pale’s return to claim Gilbert
Relationships: Auguste Beau/Arion Rosemarine, Auguste Beau/Gilbert Cocteau, Auguste Beau/Jean Pierre Bonnard, Auguste Beau/Pale Cocteau
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	1. The Master is Returning

**Author's Note:**

> This story started out as a sort of Secret Garden AU but at this point I don't think it's really that anymore  
> I like the idea of Auguste seeing him self as an inherently good and pure person due to being victimized. I also like the idea of Auguste setting out to be and honestly believing he is a good father, despite failing due to lacking any personal boundaries. I absolutely love the portion of kaze ki focusing on Gilbert and Auguste. So this is my attempt to write something with a similar feel but with less rape, emotional abuse, and ugly bastards  
> I hope you enjoy :) critiq/feedback is greatly appreciated

Chapter #1 

The house was filled with hushed whispers that morning. Maids flitted about hopping from room to room tidying up in a frenzy.gathering together briefly to discuss their “household duties”. Of course if master Auguste was in earshot they scattered as quick as they could muster flying frantically in every direction. His eyes were steel bullets and he was an excellent hunter. It was a pathetic display.  
He knew exactly what it was they were discussing, what everyone had been discussing for the last month. The true master of the house would be returning with his son. Everyone was happy to be rid of monsieur Auguste Beau.

His brother had taken a “missionary” voyage to the colony in Algeria. The thought of his brother a missionary made him chuckle. No part of that man could have ever been considered holy. He felt bad for the natives. And even worse for the boy. That slender waifish creature he’d only seen once before, in a photograph. His brother had of course never let him see the child in person. The boy’s uncanny resemblance to him would bring up too many questions better left unanswered. 

The frail man returned to his study, his silk dressing gown trailing behind him. He sat down, sinking into the plush chair with a sigh. He instinctively grabbed his writing pen fiddling with it anxiously. The thought of sharing a house with his brother again made him on edge, his fingers tremble and his shoulders tense. All of a sudden his butler flung open the door. Auguste dropped the pen with a thud.  
“ you have to knock before you come in here like that.” The old man lowered his scraggly whiskered face in submission.  
“ I apologize Master Auguste.I often forget you have such , delicate sensibilities.” The last bit was said with exasperation and just a tinge of venom. Auguste let out a long slow sigh  
“ what is it that’s brought you here to talk to me?.” He quirked an eyebrow staring intensely at him. The butler continued  
“ your brother sir… will be arriving early . Tonight to be exact. I thought I should give you a warning ,they’ll be here by breakfast tomorrow. He and the boy I mean.” The old man's eyes drifted to the floor  
“ I know you two * ahem* don’t get along very well” The butler bowed and hurried out of the room.

Auguste sat pale faced staring at the place the man had been just a few seconds ago. His brother would be arriving by morning. In that instance the reality of it all hit him like a speeding train. He would finally get to see his Gilbert in the flesh. It didn’t matter that his brother would be there looking at him that way that brought shivers up his spine. His pulse quickened. Brain buzzing with possibility. He wanted to kiss and embrace his long lost baby. He wanted to teach him about art, and history, and take him to the opera in Paris. God knows what drivel, if anything at all they taught him in that Arab country. 

He hoped incredibly selfishly that his brother had been bad to Gilbert. And that he would come crying to him and let his frail docile uncle stroke his head. Cooing to him all the while 

“ it will all be alright my darling. He hurt me too, hush now. I love you Gilbert more than you’ll ever know.”


	2. Like an Angel Born from Sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took a few months I have my own original writings to work on as well as some memory loss problems which made me forget to post this after I finished it about a month ago  
> I thought it would be interesting to explore the power dynamics of Pale and Auguste's relationship, as well as the extremely fucked up fact that Auguste lost his virginity to his brothers wife, conceived a child, and got a large permanent scar all on the same night. ( btw if you do the math he was only 19 at the time)  
> I hope you enjoy reading

Chapter #2 

Auguste rose from his bed the following morning. His sleep had been erratic. His hair bone straight and white, was mussed from his night of violent tossing and turning. His brain still somewhere in limbo between elation and dread. He grabbed the pale ceramic water pitcher kept by his bedside and pouring some of its contents into the matching basin, and began washing up. He splashed his face with water letting the liquid roll down his sharp features, a few droplets missed the basin and hit his bedsheets, they were a crumpled mess. He went about the action of cleaning himself in a slow careful deliberate fashion, in order to prolong the inevitable.

Auguste walked towards his dresser picking up a perfectly folded pair of gray trousers and a white cotton shirt . His man servant was permitted to lay out his things. But never to lay a hand on him, never to help him dress. So he usually dressed plainly aside from when he had company or on those rare occasions he made himself go out. No tie for today he thought his guests were family and it was only breakfast.

He sighed slipping out of his silk night clothes. He gazed deeply at himself in the mirror. His pale birdlike body felt vile and sinful. He traced his fingers along the rough red-ish pink scar that stretched from the hollow of his hip bone to his narrow waist, It appeared monstrous on his milky white flesh,it’s tendrils extending from the central mark creeping along him like ivy as if it were trying to corrupt the rest of him with it’s deformity. The scar that would never let him forget his son and the night he was conceived.

The first time he had willingly given himself up to another. He had allowed himself to be tempted into bed with her, His Anne Marie had stroked and kissed every inch of him. She had taken him as he came , a boy of barely nineteen, broken, and fearful, frail, and mousey, and naive. And they had become one flesh, a tangle of limbs and steamy breath. And in a moment of ecstasy he felt love beautiful and pure. Not only for Anne but for himself as well for a moment he felt as if he had become a new man bathed in holy water, the ghosts of his brother's touch had vanished. His body became his own no longer a toy to be used and battered for the pleasure of others.he was at peace. 

That was until the door opened and he heard his brother’s heavy footsteps. He was paralyzed. He could remember the scene perfectly as if it were burned into the underside of his eyelids. His brother towered over them the light hit him in a way that made his shadow appear mostrous, draped over their sinful naked forms. His brother grabbed him by the wrists ropy fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. And dragged him off the bed still hot and wet from her.. His Anne Marie. He remembered looking back at her, maybe it was the years of painful recountings leeching their poison into the moment, but he remembered a faintly knowing smirk at the corners of her lips.

And then the fire poker came. His brother Pale was a smart man knowing well that the perfect way to deter a young man in his lecherous behavior, was to humiliate and disfigure him in such a way that to disrobe in front of another would be a horrific and sickening experience to both parties involved. And so that is exactly what Pale did with the fire poker. Blinding hot, Back arched in pain, screaming, crying,his heart beat so fast he thought he might die. The was still crystal clear in his mind he could still feel every heart wrenching sensation as if it were happening this very moment.

“Auguste!” He said aloud to himself “ it isn’t good to ruminate on the past, you have enough to worry about with the task ahead of you.” He pulled on the shirt and trousers. Smoothing down the fine fabric.He clutched his   
Shirt near his heart and let out a sigh. He turned on his heels towards the door,and began on his way to breakfast.

The dining room was decorated with fine linen and colorful spring flowers. He could see a little face peeking out from behind a large vase. It was Gilbert nibbling on a piece of bread slathered in marmalade. And with him there was his father Pale sat with one chairs space between them. He walked past the entryway and around the large table to find a space. Serving himself from the large trays of various items at our morning meal. There was more on the table than the plain fare on a typical morning. The cooks had prepared an assortment of delicate pastries to accompany their coffee, cocoa,and cold meats as a treat for the returning master.Food however was the last thing on the frail man's mind. He picked at some cold meat on his plate as he gazed at the child from across the table. He could almost catch a little smile on the boy’s pink lips. As soon as he caught his brother’s eye Auguste retreated to staring at his plate. He pushed the bits of food around. he had no desire to eat, he could feel his brothers gaze.He continued to pretend as if his meager serving of lamb and buttered bread had occupied all of his thoughts leaving him too preoccupied to engage with his house guests. 

He could hear Pale clearing his throat. He looked over and was inflamed with indignation just as soon as he did.Pale looked at him with such intensity licking butter from his lips making it all too clear That his dear old brother was the only thing in the room he had an appetite for. He was truly degenerate to so flagrantly undress him with his eyes in front of the child. Auguste felt sickened and humiliated.   
” Auguste is this how you greet your brother? how impolite of you to not even greet us with a simple good morning? I know mother taught you better than that.” He spoke with his lips curled into a taunting grin. Auguste looked up at his brother putting on his faintest rhersed smile committed to conducting himself with grace and dignity.  
“ Good morning brother”   
And with a quick turn of the head he addressed Gilbert looking into his big emerald eyes.” And good morning to you too Gilbert” This time the warmth in his voice was genuine.his heart fluttered he could see so much of himself in the boy, like a mirror to his past. Gilbert was nearly nine and his eyes were still wide and innocent, shiny and bright in the way only children who have been sheltered from the dirt and grime of the world are, he was pure. By that age of course Auguste had lost that little spark.  
He had a dull solemn stare that made adults remark that he was wise beyond his years.  
“ Gilbert come close. I'd like to see you.”

Gilbert rose from his chair pushing away from the table and tossing his head back with a defiant grunt. As he approached Auguste had the opportunity to take in all of him. He strode with confidence as if he were a prince and all the world was his palace. He wore a long fluffy white cotton blouse and linen trousers. He was slightly tanned from the arabian sun.

“My little bronze toy soldier crowned in gold…”

He thought 

“How precious you are. “

Gilbert stood in front of him,head held high and clearly somewhat disillusioned with the whole affair.   
“ Gilbert I’m very glad to finally have the pleasure of meeting you, might I say you're a very handsome boy”   
He reached out to cup the boy’s soft little hand in his. Gilbert recoiled and grimaced. Auguste’s heart sank.  
”I’m your uncle and I love you very much.. may I give you a hug?”   
Gilbert scoffed  
“ no, even if you’re my uncle you’re a strange old man why should I give you a hug?”   
Auguste lightly pulled Gilbert’s sleeve   
“ a hug would make me very happy.”   
He was sure the expression he made was that of a dog cowering in anticipation of a beating. Gilbert sighed leaning down and wrapping his arms around his uncle.   
Auguste smiled drawing the boy closer,he could feel soft hair against his neck. his head smelled of butter and marmalade. 

“What a sweet child” 

His grip drew slightly stronger crinkling the soft white cotton of Gilberts blouse.It had been so long since he had felt a loving embrace. He felt Gilbert start to pull away slightly.   
And then the silence was broken   
“Come a long Gilbert.”   
Pale’s voice boomed. Gilbert pulled away. Auguste let out a longing sigh as Gilbert walked away speeding up his pace the farther he got from his uncle. He watched as Pale placed his large muscled palm in the center of Gilbert’s back, he stared back. It pained him physically to witness it. In that moment he hated every fiber of that brutish man that stood across the room. He hated the look in his eyes taunting him.

asserting his dominance,

Marking his territory.


	3. The Man and the Mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one sure took a while haha  
> I wanted to delve into the into the past between pale and Auguste with this chapter. Pale's manipulation and cruelty ,Auguste's submission.  
> I thought it would be interesting to play with the idea that Pale "made Auguste." He made him to be used by him. And Auguste resents him for it but he is unable to refuse him out of habit and fear. He knows he has a chance of getting what he wants if he submits.  
> I have a lot of Ideas for the next one so hold tight I'll try to write/post soon

Chapter #3

Now that their morning meal was completed It was the group would go their separate ways. They had only just arrived and there was no tutor for little Gilbert. He would be sent to the gardens to amuse himself how he pleased. . He rose from his seat and his gaze met with Gilbert’s who smirked at him as he planted a soft kiss on Pales rough face as if to mock him. It was unlikely sweet fatherly kisses were a common occurrence in his brother’s household. Gilbert was clearly playing with him, He had his mother’s coquettish glance, if it could be said of a child. It was obvious he knew Auguste wanted him. Even without understanding the nature of the conflict he could feel the tension in the room. To him it was a game, like waving a steak in front of a starving dog making sure it’s always out of reach, Just to amuse himself with the look of desperation on the pathetic creature's face. He had inherited some of his father's cruelty.  
Then in an instant Gilbert ran off, leaping with the grace of a dancer. If only he thought, If only he could join him. Sitting in the shade as he watched wriggling and contorting, leaping from tree to tree like a wild boy. The thought brought a smile to his face even if it was only that,  
a thought.

He began to go to his study. Maybe pouring himself into his work could take his mind off his brother and poor little Gilbert. He kept his head up walking past where his brother was seated. He felt a thick finger brush against the back of his thigh.  
“It’s a shame, Augu your hair has gone all white since I last saw you”

Augu, Augu ! 

The nickname made his stomach turn. Pale slipped his hand between Auguste’s thighs and gave him a squeeze, His touch was heavy and lumbering and a far cry from the caress he was attempting.  
“Though There are parts of you that time has treated very well”  
Auguste’s cheeks went hot, furious.He swatted Pale’s hand away. He thought of all of the things he wanted to say at that moment. 

Time has treated you poorly brother, how is it you managed to get fatter living in some poor god forsaken country. Where you raised your only son amongst savages as a “missionary” because YOU had an appetite for foriegn women who didn’t have the words to say no !

By now he must have been shaking his face flushed. He felt ashamed it’s exactly what his brother wanted, to make him feel weak and small and afraid. And just like that in an uncharacteristic bout of bravery the frail man turned around and opened his mouth.

‘I want Gilbert to stay here with me!” he said in a strong stern tone.The words simply flew out He hadn’t meant to say them,He covered his mouth as quickly as he spoke. Knowing that he had sinned gravely for allowing the words to escape his lips.  
“Do you really think I would just hand my son off to you  
To keep as a pet?”  
Auguste stammered barely able to form words.  
“I..I..”  
He Clutched his dressing gown tightly.  
“ Even you should know He hasn’t really been yours to claim since Anne Marie died. In any other capacity than under law. It was my seed that made him I have a right to him. Regardless, what do you need a child for, to use him the same way you used me?.”  
He spoke in a fury overcome by his desire to protect that innocent beautiful creature, to not allow him to be tarnished by his brother’s fowlness.Those piercing emerald eyes set in his fine featured sunkissed skull. The thought of him teary eyed with bruised knees beaten penetrated in “brotherly embrace” as he had been. Filled him with a rage he’d never felt.

He realized too late that what he said was icredebly stupid when he felt his brother’s meaty grip around his neck. Bringing the smaller man’s face close to his so that they were nearly touching. He spoke breathing heavily into Auguste’s ear.  
“What are you insinuating Augu..?”  
Auguste looked back silently.  
“ You know you were always a two faced bitch. You always whined, and cried, and complained. But in the throws of it you moaned my name loud enough for all the servants in the house to hear.”  
It wasn’t exactly a lie.though it was deeply shameful to admit  
“ You were always ashamed to admit you were a queer Auguste. That’s why you seduced my wife, to try to prove you were a big strong man and how did that work out huh? It was the shame and humiliation of what you did to her, of carrying your child for nine months that killed her! He’s all I have left of her!”  
Auguste wanted to scream.

He’s all I have left of her!

But his lips stayed glued shut. He nodded stepping back from his Brother’s now loosened grip.  
“I won’t get on my knees and beg for you.”  
Pale smirked.  
“That's rich coming from you. It seems you’ve spent nearly half of your years that way ”  
Auguste whipped his head around and raised his hand to strike his brother.  
Pale smirked  
“you wouldn’t.”  
Auguste threw his arm forward with all of the might he could muster grazing his brothers face with his fingertips. The smooth motion was interrupted abruptly by his brother's meaty hand clasping his wrist.His soft body crumpling like a rag doll from the impact. Pale laughed.  
“Delicate as always Augu.”  
He said, examining his brother's slender wrist running his thumb along the underside, where the skin was thinnest and his blue veins showed through bright like ivy on white marble .  
“ Just like when we were children some things never change.”  
August yanked his arm away, tucking it behind his back. His cheeks went hot and he looked down at the floor, he didn’t want his brother to see him blush.To have the satisfaction of seeing it.  
“You know brother I thought enough time had passed that I would be in pleasant company on my visit here.”  
He spoke with that voice that was rich and sweet enough to make Auguste gag.  
It is you not me who can’t leave the things in the past he thought, but he kept his mouth shut  
“I missed you while I was away in Algeria ,you know.”  
He continued smiling in Auguste’s direction though the younger man refused to dignify his glance.  
“ Whenever I looked at Gilbert I thought about you.”  
The words felt Heavy Pale had a way of overpowering him without a touch. “He has your eyes, you know, Thoughtful, I can never tell what’s going on in that little head of his.”  
Pale looked at Auguste as if to beckon him with hungry eyes he made his best effort to disguise with a welcoming grin.  
“ Let's share a drink for old times sake”  
He expected him to waver to give in with just the slightest pressure. 

Come on Augu….

I might be a bit more generous if I’m in a good mood...


	4. Ripe and Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favorite chapter so far !  
> It's also a bit lewd  
> I thought it made sense to give Auguste the same craving for unsatisfying emotionless sex with men he finds wholly unattractive. (like father like son) As they both experienced similar childhood trauma. I still Haven't decided whether or not my Auguste has a normal relationship to Gilbert or Whether he's attracted to and pines for him from afar but never acts on it. So there's no telling what's to come.  
> fun fact the thing Gilbert and Auguste do feeding berries to the koi fish in the garden is something I used to do with my own father as a child. And yes they really do eat almost anything that floats!
> 
> Ps. I went back trough my old finished Chapters and made a few edits. Mostly formatting, but also changing a few lines here and there to make things a little more cohesive, as well as adding proper titles. Go give them another read if you feel so inclined.

Chapter #4

Auguste lay out on the bed his weight rested on his left arm, his body creating a Graceful curve. He was in Pale’s chambers in nothing but his   
flimsy silk dressing gown. He felt deep regret in the pit of his stomach, The air smelled of wine and sweat his mind was fuzzy, He could still feel the residual buzz from whatever spirits he’d indulged in. “He must have undressed me,” Auguste thought. Pale stood in front of him, nude,smoking a cigar. He offered one to him twirling it around in his large hand as he did. Auguste obliged, plucking the Cigar from his brother's hand and allowing him to light it for him. 

“You should have stayed in the colonies Pale,You belong there. Your presence here cheapens the civilized world”  
Haughtily he pulled the front of his flimsy dressing gown tightly closed with one hand taking a drag from his cigar with the other.  
“You’re no saint yourself Augu.”  
Auguste stood up defiantly. He was a grown man; he didn’t have to put up with this. But quicker than he could take a step he felt fleshy palms cupping his hip bones dragging him back onto the feather bed.

Pale put his arm around him, creeping his fingers up his front rubbing raised pink flesh across Auguste’s groin and stomach where He had marked him. “ Tell me have you ever written about me in your poetry?”   
“ Why would I do you the honour of immortalizing you in the written word.”Auguste scoffs Pale   
“It’s presumptuous of you to think anything you write will be immortalized.” Auguste pulls away from Pale’s embrace.   
“I’ll have you know I’m very successful in my work.” Pale lunged forward wrapping his thick arms around Auguste’s waist pulling him close so that they’re naked forms touched. Burying his rough face in Auguste's neck he kissed him sloppily like a piglet suckilng it’s mother’s teat.   
“You haven’t changed one bit Augu.”   
Pale moaned. The older man’s hands traveled back to that same mark. Auguste flinched each time he touched it. He was nearly on top of Auguste now admiring his slender body and taught stomach muscles. From Auguste’s vantage point however the view was far less enticing. He was met squarely with his brothers every imperfection he grimaced disgusted by his body, the body of a hairy bloated old man.he had had more pleasurable experiences cutting himself shaving.

He hadn’t been conscious for the worst of it, now was the pantomime of passion. His brother was only tender and affectionate to him these moments his cruelty dulled through the postcoital- haze.The process was always the same. he kissed every inch of Auguste’s frail body. Up and down,Up and down. Pales heaving and shallow breaths dug Auguste’s bones deeper and deeper into the feather bed.Jostling him around enough under his shifting weight to make him sea sick.

Pale traveled towards his pelvic region. There was no use in protesting.He thought Pale in sex as well as in life was selfish and inellegant. His attempt to pleasure Auguste felt as if pale was trying to suck the life from inside him. An image came to mind of the ugly gaping mouth of a leech, or of a mosquito. Mosquitoes, those disease ridden insects,native to the oh so pleasant Arab country his brother had called home. 

A creature to which, allowing it to insert itself in you for even just an instant can infect you and destroy you from the inside out. He thought about what Pale said. He was a queer he, wasn’t a proper man. But it was Pale who had made him that way,It was he who had corrupted him from the inside out. Who had made him crave this unpleasantness, this perversion, being impaled thrust into until his insides were raw and red. He hated him for it. Being used as a hole being discarded when Pale got bored, too weak to fight back. God how He was tired of the tedium of it all, the brutality, The pain, the graclessnes of it, and of Pale slobbering over him like a dog attempting to eat a lollipop  
“ God Pale would you cut it out. I haven’t got all day you know.”   
The younger man shouted.   
“What could it possibly be that you’re in such a hurry for?”   
Auguste sat up and crossed his arms pouting like an annoyed child.   
“What does it matter to you, you’re my brother not my father.”  
Pale pinned him down in an attempt at playfulness. Auguste thrashed his arms attempting to free himself from Pales strong grip. He kneed Pale in his stomach, The large man stepped back and loosened his grip widening his eyes with shock It was a rarity that Auguste resisted him so violently. Auguste slipped off of the silk bed sheets like a snake in one foul swoop. He grabbed his clothes and got dressed quickly. Taking special care to smooth the wrinkles in his pants and shirt.

Auguste flew out of his brother's bed chambers as quickly and inconspicuously as he was able. His thoughts racing,

I must look a mess, What time is it?. 

He felt tired , sore, and a bit nauseous, what a waste of an afternoon.  
He thought of Gilbert who had no doubt spent his day frolicking in the gardens, plucking ripe plums from their branches and biting into their flesh letting the juice dribble on his white blouse without a care. While Auguste whored himself with no gain. His child had been in his home for hours and they had only spoken once. And his little Gilbert had done everything short of spitting on him. He really was pathetic.

Well it was better now than ever. 

Auguste sucked in a deep strained breath and made his way towards the gardens. They were maze-like with winding cobblestone paths,seas of candy colored flowers and fruit trees as far as the eye could see and a big reflective pond. It felt like something out of a dream or a painting. It had been ages since he last walked here alone and really took it in. There was always his brother or parents entertaining.The place’s savage beauty masked by the constraints of high society. It was peaceful, he could have spent hours wandering there. 

Suddenly he heard loud laughter and saw a shock of blonde hair. It was Gilbert. Auguste went silent. Gilbert zipped past him seemingly unaware anyone else was there with fists full of berries. His tight grip squished them leaving a trail of red and purple splotches behind him as he wove through the trees. Auguste stalked him sheepishly as if a single misstep or heavy breath would scare him away. Gilbert skipped and twirled, ducking under low hanging branches with all the grace of a dancer. Auguste watched in awe of him following close behind. Finally Gilbert sat down by the pond. His legs tucked at his side, examining his palm full of berries, a large portion of which had fallen through the cracks of his fingers. Auguste crept closer peering at him from behind a tree.Gilbert turned around and their eyes met.  
He smiled at auguste in a way that simultaneously impish and cherubic but when he spoke he seemed sincere.   
“Uncle Auguste is that you.”   
Auguste’s heart beat faster, he fumbled over his words as he replied.  
“Y..y why yes it is me.”   
Gilbert quirked his eyebrows.  
“ What is it that you do all day?”   
Auguste was silent; he didn’t know what to say.  
“ You’re wearing the same dressing gown from this morning but your hair and clothes look so sloppy? What were you doing?”  
Gilbert questioned innocently. But Auguste couldn’t help but to hear venom even where there wasn’t any  
.   
Sloppy, so he looked sloppy. 

“Oh that.” He faked a laugh. “ I was sleeping.”   
Gilbert sneered.  
“ why were you sleeping.”  
Auguste answered with the only thing he could think to say.  
“ because I was tired.”   
“ My papa says you’re a layabout.”   
Gilbert blurted. His brother's words stung a little more coming from the mouth of his child.   
“Well I don’t think that's a very kind thing to say.”   
“But is it true?” Gilbert asked. “Are you a layabout?”  
Despite the insulting nature of The question he couldn’t bring himself to be cross with the boy. He laughed uncomfortably looking around everywhere but at Gilbert. Unsure of how to reply to the child's rude question. Gilbert grinned at him tauntingly clearly extraordinarily thrilled with himself at having been able to stump an adult. 

He laid down in the grass his gold hair and pretty limbs splayed out Gracefully yet chaotically. He lazilly dropped a handful of the wet mushy berries in his mouth. And just as quickly as they touched his tongue they were spat out into the grass.   
Auguste let out a small chuckle.   
“ Those berries aren’t good to eat at all.”   
Gilbert sat up in a huff.   
“ I don't think it’s funny at all!”   
Auguste got out from behind his tree and walked over to the spot by the pond where the boy was seated. He knelt down.   
“ Here put the rest of them in my hand.”   
Gilbert placed his soft bronze hand in Auguste’s pale skeletal one. He could feel the juices squish and drip through the cracks of his fingers. “ There’s something much more fun you can do with these.” He took a few paces closer to the pond and delicately plucked an oozing berry from his palm. He tossed it Gracefully with a light flick of the wrist. The little berry made a ripple upon impact that made the entire pond shimmer. It bobbed in the water for a few moments. Auguste began to doubt his judgement. But soon after just as he had anticipated a fat white fish as long as his forearm and nearly twice as thick with red orange blotches came racing to the surface. It sucked the berry into it’s mouth with a “plop”. “Thank god The servants kept up the koi pond after his parents passing.” He thought.   
Gilbert’s eyes lit up “ He’s Huge.” The blonde boy exclaimed. Auguste was very pleased with himself.  
“ Can I try too !”  
Gilbert cried out practically vibrating with anticipation.   
“Of course.”  
Auguste answered with a smile. Children are such simple creatures. Gilbert tossed one berry after another clapping with delight as each time a large colorful fish sucked it up with a “plop”.   
“ They'll eat anything that floats.”   
He said, attempting to make conversation.   
“How do you know that?” Gilbert asked.  
“My father told me. We used to spend a lot of time here when I was little.” ‘What about my papa?” He asked innocently.   
“Yes he was there sometimes too. But your Papa and I don’t get along very well.”   
“Why is that uncle Auguste?”   
Gilbert asked, Doe eyed and curious.

That's a very long story that I don’t think you want to hear.

Nor do I want to tell.


	5. Stained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my longest chapter so far I think It's my favorite too !!  
> at this point I think this is equal parts an Auguste/Pale story and an Auguste/Gilbert story  
> I had the idea for the wound licking when I was looking at the scene in the manga after Gilbert gets grazed by a bullet and Auguste comes to his bed and tends to his wounds and says "Don't let there be scars on your body." I was trying to do something similar to the scene in Lolita where Humbert licks Lo's eyeball which is forever burned into my memory for wow strange it is. A gross but well meaning type of intimacy like licking a wound is suited to Auguste I think.  
> The final scene is most definitely not something canon Auguste would do. I definitely write him a lot more messy and less refined and poised than he is in the manga. But I view Auguste fundamentally as a person who is weak and fragile putting on a veneer of stoicism. He wants Gilbert to be strong because he wants Gilbert to be the man that he's not, That he isn't able to be. So here I show a more pathetic side of his character.
> 
> as always I hope you enjoy any comment, critique, or suggestions are highly appreciated !

Chapter #5

It shocked Auguste how quickly things had changed in the few weeks He and Gilbert had spent together after that day. They were both bored and lonely and due to their unique circumstances they spent most of their days together. They became fast friends. In the mornings they laid out in the sun while he taught Gilbert to recite prose and poetry, And in the evenings at dinner while his father wasn’t looking Gilbert made silly faces at him, crossing his eyes, sticking out his tongue, all in order to make his dearest uncle Auguste laugh. It alarmed him that such an angelic child could contort himself in such ghastly ways. And many times over he did indeed make his uncle laugh, however ungentlemanly it might have been. Even nearly spitting out is soup on one particularly hysterical occasion. 

There too had been a great change in Auguste Beau’s general disposition over the last few weeks. He smiled more. And when he stood it wasn’t like he used to, meek and slouched with shoulders hunched inward. He stood now as a man should steady with shoulders back and chest forward, his head held high with pride. Pale seethed at this, his salacious glances replaced with those jealousy and contempt. It was only now in his twenty eight years of life that he had felt power over his brother. And he savoured every moment drinking it in like fine wine and savouring every last drop.

Today was a picturesque spring’s day. And everything seemed to move slowly. The honey bees moved from flower to flower at a snail's pace, their fuzzy bodies swaying in the air as if they were drowsy or drunk.And the clouds hung in the sky fat and sluggish barely moving with the gentle breeze. Auguste felt it too. Laying on his back in the shade, in the twilight between sleeping and awake he nibbled on buttery shortbread, his belly still full from the picnic lunch he and Gilbert had shared.They had taken with them a jumping rope that Gilbert had left behind and a leather bound journal and writing pen for Auguste that shamefully he hadn’t touched the whole afternoon. As well as the picnic basket and blanket. It was such a beautiful day even if he didn’t move until dinner it couldn’t have been called a waste. Gilbert was off in the garden playing out of sight. He had said he was on an expedition to catch a rabbit or a field mouse to keep as a pet. Auguste had encouraged him. Himself quite enthusiastic about the idea. He had never had a pet as a child for fear that his brother would have killed the poor creature just to spite him. Though now he felt guilty it had been hours since Gilbert left on his hunt and he wasn’t sure if either animal lived on the grounds.

Then suddenly the gentle silence was broken by a child's blood curdling scream. Auguste jolted upright as if he’d been doused in freezing water. He heard the scream again and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Gilbert ! 

He cried out. Gilbert it must be Gilbert ,His precious angel. He scrambled to his feet, racing into the direction of the scream, his heart beating out of his chest. 

Gilbert !

The garden seemed all the more maze-like as he ran chasing the young boy’s scream through twisting paths and under low branches. 

Gilbert !

He was now quite out of breath. Where would a little boy look for rabbits? he thought. He stopped for a moment to rest on a tree. There was another cry “help ! help me!” Gilbert was near him on the other side of the tree He let out a momentary sigh of relief and approached the child Thank god he thought.That was until he got a good long look at him.

There was a rip across the thigh of his blue cotton trousers almost to his knee. The torn fabric encircled a large red gash on his lower thigh with sharp stone embedded into it. Dear God he almost said aloud. His stomach sank and his pulse returned to it’s pounding tempo as he watched a thick river of blood trickling from the wound.Gilbert whimpered.  
“ will you let me see ?”  
He knelt down beside Gilbert tenderly holding his ankle. Gilbert nodded, lifting his slim quivering leg onto his uncle's lap. Auguste gently crept his fingers up the child's leg wet with sweat and blood, he touched the stone and Gilbert winced.  
“It will feel better if we remove the stone.”  
“I apologize a thousand times over, I fear this might hurt you very much.”  
Gilbert whimpered loudly in protest. But Auguste was certain of himself as certain as he could be in such a panic. He tried to with his most delicate touch maneuver the stone to dislodge it. Luckily the wound wasn’t quite as deep as he had initially though. Gilbert’s tiny body jerked as he threw his head back and cried out.  
“ It Hurts ...It really hurts!”  
“ You trust me don’t you?”  
Gilbert nodded yes a bit halfheartedly. Auguste pointed to a bird hopping along on a nearby tree.  
“ look over there, at that lovely little bird.”  
And Gilbert turned his pretty head to look in the opposite direction to where his Uncle’s hands were at work. It was an easy distraction.He was able to swiftly pluck the stone from Gilbert’s leg without much protest. Tossing it aside into the grass near to them. Very pleased with himself with his ability to play the hero under pressure. 

That was until the trickle of blood began to flow thicker and faster. Full panic started to set in, his chest tightened and his hand trembled sticky with blood.His mind muddled by fear grasped at a way to stop the ever increasing flow of blood. 

Animals lick their wounds, and when we humans get a papercut sucking it makes it heal more quickly.

He had no better idea so he carried on.Lowering his head. And drawing his mouth to the place on the boy’s thigh where the stone was previously lodged. Hesitantly he dragged his tongue across the throbbing wound wet with blood and rough with small particles of stone. The creavase felt smooth and he could feel on his tongue where the flesh had torn. It wasn’t unpleasant, at least until he began to feel the blood gushing in his mouth and trailing down his throat. He raised his head Coughing loudly as blood dribbled on his chin. He had succeeded in nothing but leaving his mouth with the aftertaste of salt copper and gravel and making himself look very foolish. The gash still bled just furiously as it had before.  
he heard Gilbert giggle “ Why did you lick me?”  
Auguste sighed exasperated and unable to give a coherent reason.  
“Really I..I really don’t know.”  
“It still really stings.”  
Gilbert whined.  
“I know,I know”  
Auguste wiped the sweat from his brow. He wasn’t used to the feeling and the thin wisps of hair that clung to his damp face.  
“I think I’m going to have to carry you home.”  
He felt dreadfully stupid and helpless having exhausted all he could do so quickly. He wished he had been educated in things more practical than Latin and table manners. Gilbert nodded in remarkably good spirits for the amount of blood leaving his body. Auguste hoisted him up, gripping on as tightly as he could to the boy’s small body. And the two raced home blood trickling down Auguste’s shirt sleeve. Leaving a trail of red spots behind them.

They entered the house Gilbert’s head rested on his Uncle’s shoulder and called out to a young maid of no older than fifteen tidying up the spacious sitting room at the front of the house.  
“ Get someone who can dress this wound!”  
“Yes of course master Auguste.”  
She stopped what she was doing, lifting her skirts and scurrying across the room to them like a frightened animal. She took off her apron spreading it out on a low plush lounge.  
“ Lay him down here Master Auguste, so you don’t exhaust yourself from carrying him.”  
“Thank you very much ms.”  
Auguste said gently lowering Gilbert to the white cloth covered seat. And sitting down beside him. Gilbert put his hand on Auguste’s reassuringly like a parent would to a child.  
“I’m really okay I promise.”  
He reached into the pocket of the untorn side of his trousers. And looked at his uncle with a wide grin, cupping something very small in his hands.  
“Look!”  
In his hands was the smallest rabbit The man had ever seen.  
“I can keep her can’t I? Her mama and papa left her all alone ,I was running after her when I fell.”  
Auguste chuckled, patting Gilbert on his head.  
“Of course you can keep her, it’s a joy something good came out of this whole ordeal.”

An older woman entered the room carrying bandages and a vial of something he assumed was to clean out the wound. Gilbert quickly returned the caramel colored rabbit to his pocket. Trailing the woman was Pale who upon entering the room made them both nearly jump in their seats.  
“I thought It necessary to Inform Master Pale of your little accident.” She said, A Pale glared across the room at his younger brother, she continued.  
“You boys should both be very proud of yourselves, You’ve both been very brave and handled things wonderfully!”  
She looked at Gilbert.  
“Could you be a big boy and walk over here so I can look at your leg.”  
Gilbert nodded and walked the short distance over to her with a slight limp.She was so warm with him she must have had children of her own, Auguste thought.

Pale stared at Auguste.  
“Get Up! You're getting blood all over my couch!”  
He stood up, not in much of a mood for debate. Pale continued.  
“ You think you can just waltz into my home! with my son! covered in blood and not expect to have to answer to me.”  
Auguste had nothing to say in reply.He could see as the older woman looking at them acutely aware that the conversation would only become more heated from then on. And started ushering Gilbert off to the other room.  
“My dearest brother Auguste. I felt bad for you,I really did. I thought that you were lonely and that letting you spend your time with him gallivanting around the gadens would be harmless. That was before I knew you were empty headed enough to leave the child you claim to love with all of your heart - 

COMPLETELY UNATTENDED !!

AND LETTING HIM MAR HIMSELF WHILE YOU DOZED OFF IN THE SUN PRETENDING TO WRITE YOUR LITTLE POEMS!

Auguste groaned.  
“It could have happened to anyone.He’s a little boy Pale. little boys get hurt. I would think that’s something you of all people would be quite understanding of judging by the bruises you used to cover me in when I was a child.”  
“ say that one more time I dare you.”  
Pale growled, lunging at him and wrapping his thick fingers around the man’s slim neck. Auguste smirked looking his brother square in the eyes  
“You know Pale you're only proving me right.”  
tossing his head back and shouting at the top of his lungs. 

“ BY THE BRUISES YOU USED TO GIVE ME WHEN I WAS A CHILD PALE ,THE BRUISES YOU GAVE ME WHEN BEAT ME !!!”

Pale shook his head.  
“Augu, such a flare for the dramatic making a big scene just like you always did in front of mother and father to get me in trouble.”  
He barked the words, tightening his grip.  
Auguste turned his head to see Gilbert poking his head out from behind a vase.  
“Is this really the face you want to show your impressionable young child Pale?”  
Auguste taunted. It was obvious he was struggling; his words were hoarse and rasping. Pale ground his teeth like a rabid dog. It disgusted him how cocky his brother was knowing all the well his neck was thin enough to snap in an instant, he yanked Auguste towards him by the ironclad vice he still had around the man's neck and tossed him like a toy at the wall behind them, loosening a small painting hanging there with the impact. Auguste fell to the ground with a thud.  
“ Now who’s the one that should be worrying about the face he’s showing in front of the child.”  
Pale said as he left the room. The older maid came racing in as he went worried from the crash. She ran over to Auguste on the floor trying to help him up, He pushed her away.  
“I’m fine, it’s really nothing.”  
She continued, ignoring his wishes, smoothing the fabric of his soiled dress shirt.

“I’M FINE!” 

The woman backed away. Auguste ran off to his chambers, his head down. He couldn’t say goodbye to Gilbert; he couldn’t even bear to look at him. He couldn’t face him like this he had looked weak, and stupid, and Pale had made an ass of him.

In the evening he called for his dinner, dessert and a bottle of wine to be brought to his room. Where he had collapsed onto the bed in his still bloodied shirt and trousers wrapping himself in a quilt. He ate his food quickly in a matter of minutes, stuffing himself in an attempt to quiet his nerves, It had only made him feel worse. After chasing the meal down with half the bottle of wine,He curled up exhausted. Praying desperately that sleep would take him soon he lay awake for hours,his eyelids squeezed shut.A voice in his head repeating again and again. 

Auguste you fool how could you be so dense

By morning He’ll hate you and it will have all been your doing ...

It was the dead of night now and he had had no rest. Auguste sat up in his bed grabbing in defeat the half empty bottle of wine from his bedside table and taking a long hard swallow. He wanted something, anything to dull his racing thoughts. Food and hard drink had done nothing to soothe him. After donning a fresh pair of clothes He left his room staggering as he walked down the manor's empty halls until he reached Pales bed chambers. 

This is where I always end up isn’t it 

He barged in and began undressing in only the firelight. He didn't know why he did it, why his mind and body craved it. This unpleasantness, this filth. Maybe out of nostalgia, maybe out of some masochistic impulse embedded deep within him. He unbuttoned his fresh cotton shirt and tossed it onto the bed. Pale stirred awake, looking over to the doorway where auguste stood. His trousers falling to the ground as he slipped them over his slim hips. Tripping and falling onto the feather bed as he stepped out of them.  
“Pale”  
Auguste said almost a whisper  
Pale looked up at him his eyes narrowed irritated, his words slurred with sleep.  
“ What are you doing here.”  
“ Don’t play dumb Pale, you know theres only one reason ”  
Auguste stood on his knees throwing out his arms to bare his full front to his brother. 

Pale looked him up and down. The dim firelight was unflattering, It made him look haggard. With dull stringy hair, shivering, his skin was all gooseflesh, and he reeked of alcohol and desperation  
“ Augu I’m not in the mood.”  
“Why”  
It was a child's question.  
“I’m just not in the mood. You don’t inflame my passions anymore than my curtains do, or the roast I had for dinner.”  
He gave Auguste another good look.  
“Or maybe it’s that you remind me of the roast I had for dinner”  
He pointed to where Auguste’s stomach stuck out unusually puffy and round on his otherwise slender figure,distended from labored digestion and too much wine. He gave him a mocking jab with his thick finger.  
“ You look quite a bit fuller than when I last saw you.”  
The younger man’s cheeks went bright red. He clutched his stomach doubled over as if he’d been stabbed. 

He wasn't a very vain man, the insult was mild, god knows Pale had said worse.But a combination of the effect the liquor had on him and shock that his brother who usually drooled over him had insulted his figure made it cut through him like a sharp knife. And he began to feel hot tears welling in the corners of his eyes.He felt utterly worthless. He sat on the bed still clutching his belly gritting his teeth in an attempt to save face.  
“ Auguste are you crying?”  
Pale said mildly amused.  
It didn’t work. Tears came quickly, rolling down Auguste’s cheeks.

“ I would think you would be relieved with how much fuss you usually put up and how little you seem to enjoy my company.”  
“I’ve had a horrible day.”  
He sucked in staggered breaths shaking like a leaf.  
“And who’s fault is that!”  
Pale slammed his fist on the bed. Auguste shouted  
“ You threw me across the room like a ragdoll in front of Gilbert, How will he ever respect me after seeing that.”  
“ Well I’m sorry your little fantasy of playing pretend at being -

MY SON’S! 

father was cut short.. Forgive me for not being choked up.”  
He rolled his eyes the way he always did.

At his hysterical, weepy, little brother always falling to pieces at the slightest provocation.

“ You don’t deserve a sweet innocent boy like Gilbert!”  
Auguste shouted.  
“ Yes, says the man in my bedroom undressed sobbing like a little girl-

Because I won’t fuck him

and smooth his hair and tell him everything will be okay .”

Pale pressed his fingers to his temples.  
“Auguste please get up, put on your clothes, and leave, you're giving me a headache.” 

You look pathetic !


	6. Adoration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter in which Auguste truly falls in love with Gilbert !  
> By standing up to Pale he proves himself to not only be a sweet child that he has a great affection for but someone stronger and more fearsome than him with a great potential. Someone that he needs to educate and foster.  
> I've decided on Auguste doing some pining after Gilbert throughout the story but he has no aim to compromise Gilberts purity. More so than maybe a kiss on the lips.  
> If you like the scene where Gilbert tries to look after Auguste then your in luck, I plan on writing a lot more of that sort of dynamic in later chapters
> 
> as always I hope you enjoy :)

Chapter #6

Work as a servant was toilsome and dull and gossip was a welcome distraction. A rumor from the mouth of a chambermaid could easily reach the ears of nearly the entire household in a matter of hours if the conditions were right. Especially if it was a particularly damning one. That is to say by the time Auguste woke from his hour or so of restless sleep everyone in the house knew about the incident.

He opened his eyes and immediately shut them. The rays of sunlight peeking in through the curtains made him all too aware of his pounding headache. Groaning he stood, looking down at his wrinkled dress shirt. It was buttoned wrong. Giving clue to how he had spent the previous night’s drunken stupor. He immediately fell back down on the bed feeling a shock of pain in his back and shoulder blades from the impact even with the cushion of the soft feather bed.   
“Pale you bastard!”   
He said aloud. His voice sounded hoarse. Remembering Pale’s fat hand around his neck. Quickly he turned to examine himself in the silver hand mirror he kept by his bedside. Just as he’d thought a hideous red purple bruise encircled his neck like a ladies choker, right up to where the throat and underside of his chin met. There was no collar high enough to completely disguise it. Everyone would see, they would stare, and pity him.

He washed his face quickly and then moved on to fixing his hair. Soon after before he was able to dress himself in fresh clothes a maid came in to check on him. She entered slowly, crouched and shaking dwarfed by the towering open doorway. She gawked at him fumbling over her words desperately attempting to hide the fact that her eyes were glued to the ugly mark.  
“Monsiuer Beau.. Is there anything you might..”   
Her eyes darted around the room from the empty wine bottle to his crumpled shirt.   
“ A cup of tea and a cigar.”   
He answered sharply before the girl could finish her sentence, making her jump.   
“Nothing at all to eat?”   
“Do I not make myself clear?”   
his words cut through the air like a whip. Making her snap to attention ,straightening her back .She nodded.   
“ Tell my man I won’t be needing him, and tell everyone else that I won’t be seen until dinner. I have a lot of work to get done.”  
He stood up his back to the girl, walking over to his dresser and slipping into the green and gold silk dressing gown he had discarded there. She watched intently as put it on. swinging his arms from his back to his front in a graceful but aggressive swoop. grasping the two ends of the gown’s sash he stretched them out in front of him making sure they were even then crossed them over each other pulling them tightly around his waist with force.   
“Young master Gilbert has been asking for you, would you like me to tell him the same?”   
He paused a moment in thought the slick silk of the sash slipping through his fingers mid way into knotting it. Imagining Gilbert’s wide emerald eyes and pouting lips. He hesitated.   
“Yes ,I think that will do.”  
He felt guilty but he didn’t want Gilbert to see him in such a state. The girl curtseyed and skittered off through the door like a scared mouse. 

He made his way to the small writing desk he had set up in his bedroom and took a seat. The girl came quick enough bringing his tea and cigar without a sound. He sat there for what felt like hours in silence staring at a blank page. Breathing deeply as he sipped his tea slowly. The pain in his back where he had hit the wall making him wish he had asked for wine.

Since that first night with Pale he hadn’t written a single thing he liked. It was difficult to conjure up images of beauty in the looming presence of someone so brutish.

Gilbert …

He wrote those six little letters with a lover's tenderness at the top of the page. G,I,L,B,E,R,T . Seeing the rise and fall of them in his curving cursive hand made him smile. He Gilbert, was a testament to the triumph of man, or of god against ugliness and brutality. Raised in an ugly, dirty, foriegn land, with a big monstrous ape for a father. He had emerged angelic, emeculate. A bronzed china doll with red painted lips. His voice high , and a thousand times brighter and more sweet than even the most delectable honey. Those soft blonde curls those, emerald eyes. Oh Gilbert, Gilbert, Gilbert, Gilbert he wrote again and again on the page until it was nearly full.  
suddenly He felt a tug on his pant leg under the desk. Startled he grabbed his chest, dropping his fountain pen which rolled across the page smudging the bottom row of “Gilberts”  
“Auguste?”   
He could feel tiny fingers groping at his stockinged calve. He jumped to his feet.  
“Gilbert!”   
His voice croaked when he tried to shout.

Gilbert stared up at him beaming from the floor. Auguste leaned on his desk attempting to steady himself.   
“Gilbert where did you come from, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”  
“I wanted to know if you were okay, you were gone at breakfast.”   
Gilbert said cheerful as ever scooting out from under the desk on his rear. He continued.   
“ I thought you must have had to be hungry by now so I brought you some food. Here.”   
He opened his hand to reveal a mass of brown and white mush he could only assume was formerly some type of sweet roll before coming into contact with Gilbert’s tiny grip.  
“It’s all I could carry.”   
Auguste cringed. He looked at Gilbert faking a smile and gently patting his belly.  
“ I’m feeling rather ill this morning. I really don’t feel I could stomach a thing.”  
Gilbert dropped the “food” on his desk.   
“Did you have too much to drink?”  
Auguste snapped instinctively at the question, as if he were a disobedient child being scolded.  
“No I did not have too much to drink!”   
Gilbert chipper as always babbled on.  
“I heard one of the maids saying so. She said you drank a whole bottle of wine!!”   
That last part seemed very much to excite him. He pointed at the bottle still sitting atop Auguste’s bedside table.  
“Was it that bottle?  
“Yes Gilbert, It was that bottle.”   
Auguste dragged his hand over his face in defeat already exhausted by the conversation, mumbling to himself “that halfwit maid forgot to dispose of the bottle.” Gilbert stared at him with pleading eyes. The man let out a long deep sigh.  
“Gilbert, I really don’t think I’ll be much fun today, I really feel sick. And I have a lot of work to get done.”   
He winced. Acutely aware of how strained his voice sounded he swallowed, praying Gilbert wouldn’t look up and notice the deep burgundy ring around his throat.  
“ Alright you can stay as long as you keep very quiet. Do you understand?”   
Gilbert nodded.   
“There, good boy.”   
“I can play with Augu!”   
“Au-gu?”  
Auguste looked at Gilbert puzzled.  
“Augu is my rabbit, I named her after you because she’s beautiful like you. And because her fur is white and shiny just like your hair! And we found her together Augu!”  
It made him uncomfortable to hear his brother’s diminutive pet name for him coming from the mouth of a child. It stirred something in him better left unfelt. But the two syllables strung together didn’t make him flinch and feel small as if Pale had said them with his hungry eyes. Anything would have sounded sweet to his ears coming from Gilbert's pretty lips. It was a rare occasion for him to hear beautiful before his name and not have it be followed by a plea for entrance into his pocket book or bed chambers. He knew the compliment had been genuine, innocent.   
“T-thank you Gilbert, that's very sweet.”   
He sat back down at his writing desk, lighting his cigar and taking a puff.  
The wisps of smoke framing Gilbert as he played on the other side of the room.

Gilbert tried his best to be quiet, But occasionally Auguste would hear something, humming, hushed words spoken to the rabbit, the scuff of hard soled shoes on the wood floor. And his eyes would stray from his work, stealing glances, Gilbert by now was oblivious to his presence. He studied, observing every detail, trying to paint a perfect picture of the child in his memory. Though it might have pained him to think of It was very likely this time they had together would be brief and these memories would be all he was left with. Gilbert’s slender form dancing across the underside of his eyelids like a spectre when he was long gone, out of reach. 

The shorts Gilbert wore were slightly smaller than usual, He must have outgrown them before his father had bothered to purchase a new pair. Revealing to him a small strip of bare skin where he was bandaged. It was only now that he noticed how pale he was there. It was a part of him that was usually covered, where the sun had not baked him brown. Tender and milky white like the interior of fresh baked bread. He remembered the taste of copper, and salt, and gravel. That he had dragged his tongue across such an intimate part of him and Gilbert had only laughed. Innocent and shameless. It made him feel strange. 

“ I’ve soiled him”

He thought. It was because of him. Because of his recklessness, Gilbert would always have an ugly scar there. A monument to his failure, marring his precious thigh. His rose white beauty, torn and tattered. He hoped with all his heart that Gilbert wouldn’t grow to resent him. Allowing his pure youthful perfection to be soiled felt like brutality. 

“ My Gilbert, I promise to never allow you to be harmed again” 

Auguste yawned, stretching his arms out and drawing his body back into an arch. His wrist hitting a precariously placed bottle of ink as his arms fell back to his sides.The bottle came crashing down quickly, before he could think to reach out and catch it, shattering into a mess of jagged flecks peppered in an expanding pitch black pool on his expensive oriental rug. He winced.  
“Auguste? What was that?”   
Gilbert whipped his head around to see the source of the noise that had broken their shared silence.  
“It’s only ink Gil-”  
He stopped mid sentence. Knowing by Gilbert’s wide eyes and the way his mouth sat agape, his lower lip quivering the barest quiver. That he had seen it. He took a deep breath, sucking in so much air into his lungs that his tiny body shook. He made a wretched noise as if he were choking, Auguste had heard it before from other children, he knew that tears were soon to come.

Gilbert wailed at the top of his lungs, crying harder than he had ever heard a child cry.  
“Augu, A- A what happened to your neck!”  
He hurled himself at Auguste, his cheeks ruddy and drenched with fresh tears, He grabbed onto him with such force and speed that it nearly knocked him off the chair he sat on. Burying his tiny skull in Auguste’s chest.  
“Oh, Gilbert please calm down. I know it looks ugly but it’s only a bruise, And it really doesn't hurt at all.”  
He frantically petted Gilbert's hair unsure of how to quiet the boys violent sobs.  
“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!”   
He screamed, grabbing fistfulls of Auguste's sleeves nearly pulling the dressing gown off his shoulders.  
“IT WAS HIM WASN’T IT I KNOW IT WAS!”  
He dragged his damp face down Auguste’s chest stopping between Auguste’s legs when he met the chair’s cushion. the crown of his head pressed to the man’s navel. Still clinging to him, the child's desperate grasp drove his nails into Auguste’s arms so that he could feel them like daggers through his sleeves.  
“Gilbert,please”  
Auguste spoke in his most gentle,pleading voice. Gilbert was uncomfortably close, and uncomfortably warm. His thin shirt clung to his chest damp where Gilbert’s face had been. He almost recoiled from him. collapsed in a heap hanging off the chair, His head rested squarely between Auguste's thighs. He lifted Gilbert’s face up with a gentle hand. This time he spoke sternly.  
“Gilbert! Quiet this instant and stop hanging on me. It’s not your pain to cry about!”  
The child continued to cry as if he were unable to stop.   
“Gilbert. Answer me what has come over you?”   
He lifted Gilbert’s face up close to his, staring into his usually wide bright eyes, now horridly watery and red.   
“There must be a reason for this behavior, now please Gilbert answer me.”  
“I HATE HIM, I HATE MY PAPA.”  
Gilbert shrieked the words at the top of his lungs. It made Auguste’s heart sink, dread set in. 

Oh sweet Gilbert what has he done to you

He held Gilbert gently, pressing his lips to his golden scalp.His hair was wet and tasted of salt. They were now in eachothers arms. As he held Gilbert close to his chest, he could feel his heartbeat begin to quiet,his body relaxed, and his sobs tapered off into a sparse sniffle. He had burned himself out like a candle that had run out of wick.Auguste spoke through Gilbert’s stuttered shallow breaths.  
“Now Gilbert, tell me what about my injury has upset you so!?”  
“ Don’t call it that Augu It’s not an injury it’s not”  
He tightened his soft little hands into fists as if readying himself for a fight.  
“ My nanny, my servants, and now you,You’re his baby brother, why would he do it to you, how could he beat you?!”  
Auguste sighed, sinking further into his chair.  
“I’ve told you Gilbert, What’s gone on between my brother and I isn’t something for you to concern yourself with. That’s the end of us talking about it.” 

Auguste turned away from Gilbert still nestled up against his chest. Leaning his head down and drawing his fingers lightly to his lips, suddenly hit with a recurrence of the wave nausea and throbbing in his skull that he had been attempting to stave off all morning.  
“Gilbert please, get down. I need to lie down or I’m going to be sick.”  
Gilbert got down,following Auguste to his bed. Climbing in beside his uncle who laid propped up on two pillows pressing on his temples with his eye’s squeezed shut.   
“Why would you want to drink so much if it makes you sick.”  
Gilbert said frankly, sitting cross legged to his side.  
“Often Gilbert, the things which provide us the greatest comfort, are also the greatest source of our misery.”   
Gilbert laughed an impish mocking laugh.  
“That’s silly.”   
Gilbert looked for a moment very contemplative scanning the room with furrowed brows. Finally fixing his gaze on the golden clock.  
“It’s almost time for lunch and you haven’t eaten anything at all. That’s why you feel sick Augu!”   
a maid came in with a tray for them in a few minutes as if she had heard Gilbert’s request through the door. Two portions each of strained soup, bread, and sugared custard. Auguste still wasn’t hungry. The food was soft and mild, and eating it in bed made him feel like a child or an invalid. The maid was quiet and smiled at Gilbert as she left, but she didn’t dare look at the master. 

Auguste ate slowly, still reclined on his two fluffed pillows. While Gilbert sat upright and played with his soup spoon, lifting it up above the bowl and letting it’s viscous contents dribble back down. He laughed mockingly  
“She brought us baby food!”  
“The maid must have told the kitchen staff that I was ill.”  
Auguste said before taking a small bite of the bread, wincing and slightly grabbing his throat as he swallowed.  
“It’s not my favorite either Gilbert, but it will be gentle on my throat and on my digestion.”   
Gilbert’s cheerful expression disappeared. Drawing attention to his sore throat must have struck a nerve.  
“Don’t look like that Gilbert, you’ve done enough crying today.”  
Gilbert nodded, silently polishing off the rest of his meal and the remaining bites of bread and custard on Auguste’s tray. Auguste smiled at him.   
“There you go, good boy.”

Despite his initial protest the light meal had calmed his ailment significantly The two of them spent the rest of their afternoon following lunch, lounged in the canopy bed, Auguste with his novel and Gilbert with his pet.It was the most comfortable he'd been in a long time.Peering over his book watching as the little rabbit ran in circles across the bed, and Gilbert, still full of energy, crawled after it. The occasional knee or elbow clumsily falling upon him as he went. A few times Gilbert placed the animal on his chest or stomach proclaiming “she likes you! she likes you!” marveling as it scurried the span of his torso, rifling around in the folds of the bedclothes. For a few hours he forgot about yesterday's humiliation and this morning's regret. 

Auguste walked over to his wardrobe pawing through his suits to pick one for dinner. He was not looking forward to his evening meal. To Pale’s sense of superiority. Oh how he would revel in watching his Augu walk in his head held in shame, From knowing that in a moment of weakness he had made his brother crave him, that he had cried and been turned out like a stray. But Gilbert had begged him. And it would have been cruel to leave the child to dine with the father who he hated, Just because Auguste had conducted himself like a pathetic weepy harlot. He picked a suit, pulling it on and smoothing the seams in the mirror.

He heard a knock at the door. And Gilbert flew past the entryway at him before giving him the chance to open the door and let him in. It was uncourteous, but he didn’t mind.  
“Are you ready to come downstairs.”  
Gilbert said with a grin, reaching out to grab his uncle’s hand.  
“Almost.”   
He let out a long sigh. He wanted a drink, or to stay here and rest in his comfortable armchair. He grabbed onto the boy’s hand.  
“There’s something else Gilbert, hold on.”  
He bounded over to his dresser, Gilbert trailing behind him. And plucked a gauzy silver-blue scarf from one of the drawers. Gilbert’s eyes seemed to dance along with the scarf as it trailed behind them. He wrapped it around his neck tucking it into his dress shirt's high collar, it’s layers only barely opaque enough to hide his bruise from immediate view. He smiled, It looked good on him.  
“It’s beautiful.”  
Gilbert’s reaction made him chuckle  
“Beautiful is a very dramatic description Gilbert, it’s only a scarf. But thankyou.”

They walked out the door together and down the stairs, arm in arm. Gilbert tensed up gripping his hand tighter and tighter as they approached the dining room. He looked serious, fierce, as if the day’s events had aged him far beyond his nine years. They sat down at the table beside each other diagonal to Pale. He drank wine from a goblet and let out a breathy wheezing chuckle upon seeing his brother.  
“That’s quite the fashionable scarf you have Auguste, It’s certainly an interesting choice for dinner at home.”  
He stared off at a painting of a young woman on the other side of the room playing at indifference.   
“Oh why thank you Pale.”   
He knew that his composure made Pale’s blood boil; he could see it in his eyes. Auguste watched him. A tiny smile of cocky triumph graced his lips. He wouldn’t dare lay a hand on him here, not at the table, not in front of Gilbert. The fine china and silver served him as a barricade. His brother took another gulp of his wine.   
“Though I’m of the opinion a velvet ribbon tied around your neck would suit you far better.”  
Pale continued curling his mouth into a sadistic smirk.  
“That is the fashion for courtesans in Paris from what I’ve been told.”   
Auguste let out a bored sigh delicately tilting his head to one side.   
“Oh is that so, I wouldn’t know, I rarely visit Paris.”

The servants came out with the first course. Pale kept picking away at him. Then the second, then the third.   
“Auguste!”  
“Auguste!”  
“Auguste!”  
“Augu!”  
“Auguste!”  
Amidst the fire he sat silently. Poised, unbothered, unwilling to indulge his brother's childish behavior. 

But he could feel Gilbert’s slowly tightening fingers under the table interlaced with his. He squeezed Gilbert’s hand back in encouragement.  
“It’s okay”   
He whispered.Gilbert leaned into him,his small head brushing up against Auguste’s shoulder. Pale scowled at them.  
“ Gilbert, You want to know the real reason your uncle is so attached to you? You're the closest thing to a child of his own he’ll ever have. He knows all too well no woman would ever take a grown man so WEAK that he can’t even defend himself.”   
Gilbert rose from his chair throwing it back behind him with a loud screech.  
Whipping around to meet his father’s glance, hands balled into fists. Auguste stared at the child, lips parted. He felt a fluttering in his chest. 

He was just as angelic now in his moment of ferocity as he had been in the gardens crowned with lilies.

“HE’S AN INNOCENT PERSON”  
Gilbert cried out in a tone somewhere between pained and enraged.  
Pale scoffed,looking down at him.  
“Innocent? Don’t make me laugh. I know your dear uncle Augu has tried his hardest to show his best face to you. But in reality he’s a miserable, spiteful, lush, who’s daily routine consists of failing to write poetry, laying in bed reading lurid novels, and passing out drunk in the library when he finds both of those too much for his-”

“Delicate constitution.” 

“He’s done unspeakable things Gilbert, things far too vile to discuss in polite company. Let alone with a child. Now tell me Gilbert does that sound like the type of man you want to idolize?”

“YES!”

He blurted, barely giving Pale a chance to breathe. He stood by his words with the conviction of a man twice his age. He possessed the perfect cocktail of willfulness and youthful naivete, no one could argue with him.   
“Even if all of that is true, he could never do something evil, a man who would beat an innocent boy half his size senseless is no better than an animal.”  
Pale chuckled taking another long gulp from his heavy wine goblet before slamming it back on the table, and turning his head towards his brother  
“INOCCENT BOY?! Really Augu you’ve sunk so low as to refer to yourself as an innocent boy to garner sympathies from your nephew?”  
Gilbert grit his teeth.  
“I’m not talking about Auguste.”  
He looked his father straight in the eyes. drawing back his leg.With a blood curdling yell he charged forward kicking Pale under the table with all of his might, driving his small patent leather clad foot into the man’s calve. It was as if the entire room was holding their breath. Auguste looked to Gilbert shocked , his fork dropping from his hand onto the painted china, it took everything in him to suppress the venomous grin twitching at the corner of his lips. Pale was completely dumbfounded, his eyes gaping wide and his mouth hanging slack like a dead fish.  
“GILBERT !”  
He grabbed the blonde boy by his shoulders and pulled him forward like a rag doll, his neck jerked as if it were about to snap.  
“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT!!”  
He held him roughly in one arm practically snarling,Even as Pale readyed himself to strike. Gilbert’s eyes never left his fathers; he stared unflinchingly ahead, breathing heavily, still brimming with rage that had not yet been released from it’s tiny vessel. Auguste stood up from his chair, wrapping his arms around Gilbert and pulling him back before his brother's hand met The boy's face. Fluidly and reflexively as if it were instinctual.  
“Come on Gilbert, I think it’s best we leave.”   
They walked off arm in arm. Gilbert followed like he was in a daze, still trembling ,wound taught from the altercation. How he wanted to kiss him then, to lift him high in the air and up and twirl him in circles.

Gilbert..

Ever perplexing, as fierce as he was tender, as foolish as he was bright, well bred, refined, feral, angelic, unknowable.

Gilbert..

he was as all children were. In constant flux. Not yet bound by the rules that adults constrict ourselves with. Not yet truly knowing what power was, And too young to know thoroughly the boundaries between fear and titillation.

Auguste knelt down pressing his lips to the child's ear, a self satisfied smirk gracing his face. He whispered to him.

“It felt good didn’t it”


	7. Wildflower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a pretty good chunk of exposition in this chapter about Gilberts life in Africa. But I hope there is enough other interesting stuff to make up for it. I wanted to incorporate the "wild boy raised by nature" aesthetic into my version of Gilbert as well as give him some sort of trauma to bond with Auguste over. The manservant is included to be a sort of confidante character for Auguste but it will take a while for them to warm up to each other. I also Included a line about Auguste's allowance because I think the fact that it's stated in the manga that Pale pays his expenses adds an interesting flavor to their dynamic. Pale acting like his dad, treating him patronizingly and then claiming it's an act of charity. I'm also very proud of how I arranged for Gilbert and Auguste to end up together in Paris without any unambiguous kidnapping, showing his dedication for Auguste and making Auguste fall even more head over heals into his obsession. 
> 
> I also hope you all enjoy the Auguste puking scene
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your opinions of the story and I'm so happy you guys enjoy it!!

Chapter #7 

The next morning Auguste woke early, uneasy, prickling, wound taught like a ball of string. Gilbert had appeared to him in his dreams, a valkyrie, his tiny body clad in a tattered shift and a breastplate of ornately sculpted gold. In an empty field of flowers, he rode a horse. At full speed, straddling the beast with perfect form. Gilbert seemed to look back at him, coquettishly, as if he could see him. His unconscious mind, self aware, a voyeur. He kept looking as the horse charged ahead, smiling with wanton eyes. The fiery gaze of a young harlot. Suddenly he let out a high haunting laugh, loosening his grip on the reigns that he had held with expertise of a cavalier. And let himself fall, leaning back, tumbling to the ground, birdlike limbs splaying themselves out at distorted inhuman angles. still laughing madly, all the way down . He hit the soft grass rolling across it limp like a doll or a corpse, the gold armor encasing him falling away like petals of a wilted flower. And then he was a child again, innocent in his white gown. Arms held out to the sky he cried.  
“Augu”  
“Auguste” 

Even upon waking the images remained. Vivid enough still, that he felt as if he could have touched him. Lifted him up from his bed of grass and wildflowers into an embrace. He stretched out, rising from the feather bed to wash up and style his hair as was his routine. It was unlikely at this hour, barely dawn, that anyone except the servants were awake. He got dressed putting on simple clothes and a quilted red and gold dressing gown,just thick enough to shield him from the morning chill. With the dizzying image of Gilbert’s young body still swimming in his half awake mind.  
On a whim he opened the door, deciding a morning walk would do as good as anything to occupy him. 

The halls were empty, almost pitch black. He traced his fingertips along the carved ridge of painted white wood that stretched across the hall connecting the high archways of the multitude of empty rooms.The place was eerily quiet this early in the morning, It was the type of solitary silence that frightened him as a child, where his words , even cried out until his throat was raw would only be answered by an echo. He stopped. Turning his head, startled at the heavy creak he heard coming from one of the closed doors. “It must have been a footstep” he thought, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge. He knew he was starting to panic. He could feel the tightness in his chest. “It must have been nothing. who else would be awake at this hour?” He reassured himself. But he heard it again louder this time, closer, and more steady as if someone were standing right up against the door. Auguste turned his head, placing his ear against the door trying to see if he could hear anything else. Young servants afraid of being caught fornicating in the master's guest bed, petty thieves and alike.  
He heard the clang of metal and all of a sudden the door had been ripped from beneath him. Before he could open his mouth he felt thick arms around his waist pulling him into the dark room. Even in the pitch black of night he would have recognized that heavy, lumbering, touch.  
“Pale!”  
He shouted, just as futile now as it had been all those years ago, there was still only an echo to answer him.

Pale had been waiting there, probably all night, furious. He slid a warm hand slowly down Auguste’s front, following the line of stitches where his pants were fastened.Stopping when he reached the groin, he grabbed at him, making Auguste shiver. The smaller man backed away, his heart pounding. Pale swung at him. In the dark, he retreated , fitting himself in the narrow space between an armchair and it’s end table. Pale’s swing missed him by a hair, shattering a vase on the table. He stood still listening to the clash of broken ceramic. And then he felt a touch. A large body against his front, a wall too large to heavy to get around. Shaking he shrunk, The sharp edges of the furniture digging into his sides.  
“P..Pale I swear to god if you.”  
Pale grabbed him by the collar, practically lifting him up above the ground.  
“ You’ll what Augu? You can barely lift a dinner plate.”  
Auguste squirmed, not quite able to hide the weak childish tremor in his voice despite his efforts.  
“ I see this is your attempt to humiliate me in revenge for how Gilbert humiliated you yesterday.”  
Pale yanked the sleeve of Auguste’s dressing gown pulling it off of his shoulder, the force of his motion stressing the intricately stitched seam .  
“Pale stop you’ll tear it?”  
Auguste whimpered. Pale seized Auguste’s face, his thick fingers digging into him, squishing the bare amount of flesh on Auguste’s slender cheeks.  
“ Oh I’ll do more than tear it!”  
He spoke, his breath hot on Auguste’s neck.

Pale snickered, rubbing his fingers against the joint of Auguste’s jaw forcing his mouth open. His hand gliding across the young man's lower lip and stopping at the corner of Auguste’s mouth where he hooked his thumb, tugging his tense face into a slanted frown.  
“ Stripping you down and playing with you is hardly humiliation for someone like you huh? And I’ve already given you a nasty bruise…”  
Pale continued, tracing his index finger along the interior edge of his brother's lips. Pulling the soft flesh away from his teeth and flashing the pink of his gums. Auguste shifted trying to free himself. He could feel saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, he tried to gasp. Pale placed a heavy hand to his throat , a warning. He was as helpless, a doll in Pale’s arms. Auguste braced himself, Pale slid his finger into the trembling hole of his mouth.Slowly inching the appendage deeper into his throat.  
“ Lets see, how much does it take to make you gag?”  
Auguste heaved violently, his whole body shuddering.  
“I’m surprised you haven’t improved at all since when we used to play this game when you were little.”  
Pale jabbed his finger in further.  
“But I think you can take a little more.”  
Auguste gagged louder, this time gasping desperately for air. Guttural, the wet croak of something choking. He could feel his stomach acid coming up the back of his throat. 

Suddenly Pale stopped. Nervously glancing towards the door. It was cracked, he could hear knocking and a familiar voice.  
“Master Pale, is whoever you’re with in there alright I can hear signs of a struggle. Are they in need of medical assistance?”  
“Shit!”  
He tossed Auguste to the ground. He crumpled onto the hardwood floor, doubled over clutching his stomach, like a pathetic child. Pale calmly walked across the room to the doorway cringing at the sound of his brother’s retching. He stuck his head out into the hall answering in a disgustingly sentimental tone.  
“ My poor little brother’s been drinking again. It seems he’s fallen down and been sick on the floor, such a shame. Do you think you could come in and help him up?”  
“Yes lord Pale, It’s my pleasure.”

The man must have been a servant of some kind. Auguste could feel his footsteps reverberating in his skull through the floorboards. Quickly he got to his feet before the man could reach him. He rose, doing his best to feign a dignified demeanor, chin up he looked straight ahead, striding out gracefully. A diversion from his soiled shirt, and the puddle of bile behind him.  
“Sir are you okay?”  
Auguste pushed passed him and out of the door, shooting a glare in the man’s direction disillusioned by his pseudo-sympathy. 

Auguste sunk back into bed, his pulse barely quieted, his body damp from the hot hurried bath he had taken, he wore only a robe, the sheets sticking to him where his skin was exposed. He took a halfhearted gulp from a bottle of brandy on his bedside table, and curled up clutching his middle like a child, just as he had done in the dark on the cold wood floor. He felt depleted. Staying in Marseille with Pale was going to be the death of him. He would wilt and die here.

Pale had reached inside to the very depths of him, to the wounds that had only barely started to scab and torn him to shreds. Two years of peace and solitude down the drain. He could see more and more in himself with each passing day, that little boy that he had tried so hard to kill

He couldn’t write. his moods were a nauseating pendulum swinging from misery to rage to spiraling anxiety and back again. His brother’s touch a phantom limb weighing down on him, always there even when it wasn’t. his body conditioned to expect it . His appetites were irregular either veracious or leaving him barely able to swallow more than a few bites, And the stabbing pains in his chest had become unbearable. He was at his wits end. He was a mad man, a masochist. He sighed.

“Gilbert, my lovely Gilbert it’s because of you that I’ve stayed.”

That I’ve endured this. Nearly a month of this cavernous castle and it’s glittering golden hell, It’s parlour rooms stained with sin and degradation, and decorated with expensive jeweled eggs and cherub figurines. All while putting forward my best smiling face. All just for you, a child I never wanted to have. He laughed, frenzied, and hoarse, amused at the irony of it all. 

Suddenly Auguste jerked up, clutching his bare chest. Startled by the sudden knock on his lacquered wood door.  
“Lord Auguste are you still feeling unwell?”  
The voice was the servant from before. Auguste rolled over groaning, deeply irritated  
“GET OUT I’M NOT DECENT, AND I DON’T WANT ANY VISITORS!!”  
He shouted his voice strained and rasping, reminding him of the ugly bruise on his neck still deep burgundy and inflamed. He winced, the man continued with his incessant banging.  
“I can wait for you to get dressed. I brought you some herbal tea. And.. as your brother’s manservant there are some things about him I think you ought to know…”  
He was attempting kindness And seemed persistent, it would likely prove to be a difficult task to be rid of him. Auguste cleared his throat speaking again in his usual haughty disaffected manner.  
“He’s my brother. I grew up with him, what could you possibly say that isn’t already apparent to me?”  
“That might be true sir but the story I have to tell concerns the young master as well. I know you're fond of him , it might help you to understand him better.”  
The servant had managed to peak his interests “ something about Gilbert?”  
“Alright give me a few moments.”  
He promptly got up, pulling on a dress shirt and a fresh pair of trousers. He wrapped a patterned silk scarf around his neck as he walked to the door tucking it into his collar.

Auguste opened the door and let the servant in. Before sinking into his arm chair. The man walked around standing awkwardly, visibly put off by Auguste’s instenese icy gaze. In the light he was able to get a good look at him. Tall, brunet, sturdily built , clean shaven,decently handsome, somewhere around his age, and utterly plain to look at. Typical of a manservant.  
“There isn’t anywhere for you to sit, so come on get on with it.”  
Auguste complained, bouncing his crossed leg impatiently . The man bowed  
“Oh yes.. yes sir of course.”  
He glanced nervously from side to side unable to look at Auguste directly. Auguste stared back at him raising a peeved eyebrow  
“ Go on.”  
The servant took a deep breath.

“ It was quite a big deal for a prominent nobleman interested in charity work to travel to Africa on a missionary voyage. Everywhere we lived lavish accommodations prepared at Master Pale’s request. A large house was built for him in each village, looming over the little worn down shacks and farmhouses. We always had a full staff, and there were nannies and tutors hired for Master Gilbert.  
In theory he should have been looked after, but he was a difficult, strong willed and quick witted child. easily escaping his caregivers’ watchful eyes. He lived independently, aimlessly wandering the halls, chasing after wild animals, and coming home with terrible scrapes and bruises. Looking back on it now it’s a miracle he survived, there were constant tales in the village of deaths from animal attacks, infections, and poisonous snake bites. No one in that house seemed to care enough to stop him.  
His father refused to act as if he even had a child at all. He made the household his personal brothel, forcing himself on the young women who worked there. Curious young Gilbert saw quite a lot of things he ought not to have. Shouting, breaking things, pained screams, Images that he could not comprehend haunted his young mind. But nonetheless he was a generally pleasant child, laughing and singing to himself just as other children did.  
Eventually after one particularly gruesome set of scrapes, I took it upon myself to look out for him between my duties. I tried my best to get him to stay in the village and make friends with the other children.But his blonde hair and lightly golden complexion made him a curio to be admired cautiously from afar. Some surely heard horror stories from their parent’s about foreigners and their evil ways, some surely about his own father.  
He was unable to connect to others, A little person drifting through life with no one to confide in, and a home that frightened and confused him. I tried my best to help, but Master Pale always kept me busy with his demands.  
When he was about six he was able to find a friend, a boy a few years older than him, the little brother of a girl who worked in the house. The boy and his sister were orphans, master Pale had taken them in as an act of charity, or so he said... The girl was hired to be a nanny for Gilbert. She was only twelve but she was beautiful and everyone could see the way he looked at her, with those hungering eyes.  
In spite of her age she was the only one able to tame Gilbert. He was calm with her, able to focus on his school books, his boisterous energy honed on simple games and handcrafts. The three of them were inseparable; she looked after both boys side by side. Spending their days basking in the sunlight, hidden away in a valley near the village. I could tell it was heaven for little Gilbert, finally to belong somewhere…”

Auguste sunk down further into his chair , clasping his hands just above his stomach and letting out a long annoyed sigh. Rudely interrupting where the man had stopped for a breath.  
“It’s a lovely sentimental image, but not really worth nearly breaking down my door for? If you don’t mind I think it would be best for you to go. I can feel the beginning of a horrid headache coming on.”  
Auguste gestured towards the door with the flick of a wrist.  
The servant looked around flustered.  
“ Please sir Don’t make me leave yet ! I promise I won’t be long but there’s more, something very serious you really should know.”  
In that moment he was like a schoolboy Auguste thought  
“Allright, you may continue.”  
He groaned conceding to the man’s request.

“I’m sure you’d like to hear why your brother had to return home in such a hurry.”  
The servant spoke with a self satisfied smirk.

“ As I said before your brother was taken with that girl, Gilbert’s nanny, And when she was fifteen he felt it was his time to reap what he had sewed as it were. He told her that if she was grateful for all he had done for her she would do as he said, And she did. The poor girl, Naive and frightened, went with him, time after time. Seeming to grow weaker each with each crossing of the threshold into his bed chambers. Her virtue stolen by that man, that she had once seen as a saint . A healthy young girl who dreamed of marriage and motherhood, resigned to serving a drunken tyrant. And even after that things took a steep turn for the worse.  
Just a few weeks after her sixteenth birthday her worst nightmare became a reality. She was with child. I remember it as if it were yesterday, peering at them through a crack in the doorway as it all played out. She came to him drenched in tears, pleading at his feet.”

“It’s your child, I’ll marry you, I’ll travel with you back to France, I promise I’ll be a good mother for Gilbert..and”  
“What reason would I have to marry you?”  
“Master Pale I’m pregnant with your child?!”  
He looked at her with complete revulsion. He grabbed her by the arm and slammed her down to the floor.  
“You understand how this is going to look for me. Marrying some arab girl I got knocked up?!  
He kicked her in the stomach , she sobbed shocked by the blow against that tender area where the baby was housed.  
“Please have mercy. It's your child!”  
She cried out.”

“I saw him beat her black and blue. It was then that I really knew how evil he was, I couldn't bring myself to watch. I turned my head away from the door, it was the last I saw of her  
The next morning Gilbert came to wake me up. He was worried almost in tears, his dear friends the girl and her brother were nowhere to be found. Master Pale usually slept late, so I took Gilbert out to walk to console him. I had the time and it was a harmless gesture. If I had only known, for Gilberts sake I would have kept him out a few minutes longer. Because what we returned home to was not a sight a child should’ve seen, It wasn’t a site anyone should have seen.  
Gilbert’s friend, the girl’s brother, must've tried to pick a fight with Master Pale. It’s a blur to me now, but there are things I remember even after trying hard to forget. I remember your brother hunched over beating the child like a madman. His small body limp and disoriented, his features an unrecognizable mess of bloody pulp and bruises. I remember how Gilbert cried out. I tried to turn him away, to shield his eyes, but he resisted. He wanted to see the horror, to feel the pain his friend felt. He flew from my side to them like a bullet. Before I could do a thing to stop him, he threw himself between them. It was a sight to behold, such bravery a child of only nine showing no concern for his own well being. But his heroism was a success, Pale stopped.  
The next morning I was informed that news of the incident got out to the other members of our mission. We packed quickly and got on the next boat out of Africa, and that’s how we got to where we are now.”

Auguste blinked, nodding slowly, deeply overwhelmed by the story he had just been presented with.  
“I see…”  
He felt in his heart a sympathetic ache for that poor girl, she had endured the same pain he had, at the same hand. Though she had not made out as luckily as him. By nature of his sex he would never have to experience the horror of an unwanted thing growing inside of him like a parasite.  
“I’m not surprised, It’s in his nature to destroy and pervert beauty wherever he finds it.”  
He answered, his words spoken with such vitriol, in the moment he feared that he had let on that it was his experience just as much as the girl’s that he was recounting.He looked down. Trying to hide the shame that drained the color from his cheeks. He fiddled with a button on his silk dress shirt. 

“You speak french poorly, you’re foreign aren’t you?”  
His words came out harsh and sharp. An unconscious deflection from his weak point.  
“Yes, I’m from England. And my Name is Carson in case you were wondering.”  
“Tell me Carson, Did Pale ever talk about me?”  
Carson paused for a moment.  
“Yes a few times.When he was drunk and not very favorably I’m afraid. He said you were a pathological liar, a coward, a melodramatic layabout, and something about you spreading your legs to anyone willing at boarding school.”  
Auguste nodded and let out a knowing sigh. Carson continued  
“Oh, and he said you had a very nice slender figure.”  
Auguste’s mouth contorted into a stark scowl. Carson looked at him puzzled. He smiled suppressing a small chuckle.  
“You’re a strange person Lord Auguste, after all of those cruel things it’s a compliment that gets you angry.”  
“I don’t appreciate comments on my appearance.”  
He could see the manservant shrink, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze.  
“Alright, you may go now.”  
His tone made Carson flinch. He nodded, anxious. Leaving the room quickly and quietly. It was one of Auguste's most gratifying pleasures , to see a man larger than him slink away like that, as if he were afraid.

Auguste leaned back in his chair ruminating on what he had heard. He longed now even more thoroughly to provide sanctuary to that fascinating feral boy who had scratched and clawed for his survival. He sat half-heartedly flitting through a manuscript of one of his old schoolmates’ that he had left on the side table. It was amateurish work he thought, silly love poems to entertain school girls. He had written far better even before graduating. He was quickly interrupted, almost as soon as the bothersome servant had left there was yet another set of footsteps outside his door. For a moment he hoped they belonged to Gilbert. But the steps were heavy and lacking the chipper pitter-pattering of his small patent leather soles. There was more banging, this time Quieter, more enfeebled.  
“Youn- I mean Master Auguste. Master Pale has requested an Audience with you.”  
Auguste swung one leg over the other dramatically. Rolling his eyes at the old butler.  
“Tell him I’ll be down in a few moments.”

Gilbert stood outside one of the mansion's many parlor rooms, peering through a crack in the heavy door. He could see His father sitting on one side of a low table. The other figure was obscured by the door, all he could see was a flash of thin ankles, the hem of trousers, and fashionably fringed loafers with silver buckles...

Unmistakably, It was Augu 

He knew it, something bad would happen. Nothing good could come from them talking alone together in that room. He heard Pale clear his throat and begin speaking in that familiarly patronizing way.  
“Augu, It’s time you return to Paris. You’ve had your fun, two years of vacation for your health or writing or whatever it is. I don’t really care, you’ve far overstayed your welcome. I want you packed and gone from MY house by morning. I’ve taken the liberty in buying you a train ticket for eight o-clock, and I should HOPE I don't see you at breakfast tomorrow.”  
Gilbert’s young face went pale, he scooted forward on the floor pressing his face against the cool white wood of the doorway. It felt colder and harder as the carved lines left indents in his soft skin. He pursed his mouth, his body trembling with overwhelming emotion, his eyes fixed on Auguste’s loafers. With bated breath he waited for an answer.  
“ We both grew up here, you know. Mother and Father would have wanted you to let me stay if I needed it. I’ve always been partial to this house. Maybe you should go to Paris? Won’t you be needing to hunt for a new wife soon, as well as a dozen mistresses?”  
Pale let out a chuckle.  
“ Like you have a leg to stand on criticizing anyone’s sexual habits.”  
The older man wagged a taunting finger.  
“Don’t get greedy Augu, I do plenty to look after you, unless you think you could do without the allowance I send you every month?”  
Auguste poised himself to speak, quickly he retracted knowing his brother had a point. Pale continued relishing in how small his brother felt, how easy he could be silenced.  
“you're a grown man with a house of your own that you should be returning to. I don’t want you here any longer influencing Gilbert. It isn’t healthy for him”  
Gilbert saw Auguste’s legs swing back from the ottomon he had them rested on one after the other.  
“Alright, I’ll go, it's not as if I have a choice in the matter. I suppose it’s for the best. Living without you breathing down my neck all the time, plotting all the filthy things you’re going to do to me when you corner me alone will be a welcome change of pace.”

Gilbert gawked even more puzzled now then when the interaction began. He stood still holding his breath afraid the men would notice him eavesdropping during the lull in their conversation. Auguste rose to his feet smoothing down the fabric of his quilted robe.  
“ You don’t ever intend to let me see Gilbert again do you?”  
Pale crossed his arms glaring across the table.  
“What do you think?” 

Gilbert gripped his trousers tightly until his knuckles were white. He felt as if a part of him had been shattered into a million shards. He scrambled to his feet trying to hold back his tears, he couldn’t focus on their words only softly approaching footsteps. He bolted off afraid of being caught and punished, off to his room, he couldn’t let it happen, he wouldn’t let it happen.

Gilbert flew around his room in a panic stuffing all of his belongings into the one suitcase small enough for him to carry. His favorite toys, a few books and other keepsakes from his old home. And the portrait, it had mesmerized him the first time he saw it. On that first night in Marseille, the old butler had shown it to him. A little baby in the arms of a pale woman with golden hair, they were propped up on a mountain of frilled pillows, she wore a plain white gown. 

His Maman…

He was hesitant to bring it along. It made him angry to look at it. She looked so innocent there, bathed in the heavenly glow of the brush strokes, but she had died and left him, abandoned him just like everyone else had.

He was tired of it.

He would run away somehow, he’d bum a ride off some farmer on his way to the market. He was cute enough. When he got to the trainstation he’d hide away, he’d find somewhere to sleep until Augu got there in the morning. Augu would never leave him, He had loved him from the very moment he saw him. He bit his lip trying to stay strong and hold back the tears. Clutching the small travel bag in his fist he approached the door.

“Gilbert! What are you doing?”  
It was Carson. He stood spread across the doorway blocking Gilbert’s exit.  
“I’m leaving, I won’t go on living here. Not without Augu.”  
He stomped an indignant foot.  
“I won’t go on, I’ll die. you can’t stop me no matter how hard you try, I’ll even walk all the way to the train station if I have to, I’ll go all by myself and sleep on the floor, I’ll…”  
The man knelt down taking a handkerchief from the pocket of his livery. Wiping away the tears that rolled down the boy’s face.  
“ This is really what you want to do?”  
Gilbert wrapped his arms around him tightly nodding his head with conviction.  
“M-more than anything.”  
“Then I’ll help you, I was going to leave for Paris to look for work soon anyway. I’m tired of working for Pale.”  
“Really!?”  
His disposition took a rapid turn; he was already beaming his eye’s full of hope.  
“Yes really, I’ll write a resignation letter tonite, and tomorrow we’ll leave for the train station before your father wakes up. Okay?  
Gilbert giggled, practically jumping for joy.  
“ Okay!!”

The next morning the two set their course for destination. Waking early, making haste, they left before breakfast. It was unusual walking through the house. Though they had both lived there for just under a month. Leaving it felt melancholy, it was like something out of a fairytale everything white and polished to a sheen, the rich multi-colored fabric of the upholstery and the various priceless trinkets made it feel like walking around the interior of a jewelry box. Gilbert grabbed onto Carson's coat as they took their first step outside.  
“ Goodbye Marseilles!”  
Gilbert exclaimed.  
“ And good riddance Pale.”  
He giggled highly amused with himself. Carson helped him down the long tri-tiered steps and they boarded a carriage.

They arrived at the station. It was small and not very crowded at such an early hour. Nonetheless The place was a-buzz with chatter and everyone was in a hurry. The air still hazy with residual steam from the previous train’s engine.  
“Our train should be arriving soon.”

Cason said loudly so Gilbert would hear him over the chatter. Gilbert ignored him running up to the tracks, crossing the path a pair of small twins sprinting into their grandparent’s open arms. He stopped staring down with fascination at the perfectly set prows of wood and iron. These past weeks he had been a barrage of new sights, sounds, and tastes. “Soon he would go to Paris, a real city!” He thought giddy at the idea. The tips of his toes flirting with the platform’s concrete edge.  
“Gilbert be careful!”  
Carson shouted. Gilbert twirled around to face him with the grace of a dancer.  
“It’s the train!”  
Gilbert jumped back, his hair blowing behind him as the train went past them in a blur. The two filed into the queue behind a young woman wearing a large gloriously plumed hat and her drably dressed husband. Carson took a deep breath as they boarded the train.

“This plan better work.”

They stood near the entrance, Carson knelt down whispering something in Gilbert’s ear. Gilbert nodded, glancing around with a mischievous smile.  
“PAPA!!”  
He screamed out at the top of his lungs. Tears streaming down his face instantly at full force like he had turned the knob of a faucet. He ran through the train car in a frenzy. Making his best puppy dog eyes, Turning heads and garnering the sympathy and full attention of the passengers. He continued his false dramatics repeating “papa” again and again garbled by tears.  
“I’ve lost my Papa, please has anyone seen him!”  
He pleaded tugging on the sleeve of the nearest woman of a motherly disposition. She answered with a gentle smile.

“Can you tell me what your Papa looks like? I can’t help you find him without a description dear.”  
He was a suprisingly good actor, able to make his boyish lip quiver just enough to make himself utterly pitiable without being overtly histrionic.  
“ He-he’s very slender and handsome, he has long white-ish hair, and he’s wearing a blue velvet cloak and a silk scarf, A-and he always wears a lot of strong perfume.”  
Carson ran up to them.  
“Gilbert! don’t run off like that.”  
The servant held out a friendly hand to the woman.  
“I’m his father’s manservant, He ran straight to me when he got lost.”  
The woman smiled at him.  
“You’re a sweet man, I’ll ask around for the little one’s papa.”  
She gave them both a compassionate wave as she wen’t

The two walked from seat to seat, repeating the same description. Gilbert was still in full mock-hysterics. After their fifth “No” Carson could see Gilbert's act begin to fade. Melting into a sense of anxiety that began to overwhelm him. The tears that pouring from his eyes quickly became more and more genuine. By the tenth he was unconsolable. Mouthing “Augu” to himself his eyes filled with dread. He clung to the leg of Carson’s pants. Gently the man rubbed Gilbert’s back trying to reassure him.  
“It’s the wrong train isn’t it. I’ll never see him again, I’ll-I’ll have to go back.”

Carson sighed, frustrated with the child and their overall situation .  
“Gilbert, don’t say that. I know for a fact that this is the right train, I told you I asked him myself.”  
He pointed at an old man standing at the adjoining point of that train car and the next.  
“Look there! Gilbert lets go ask that man maybe he’s seen him.”  
He dragged Gilbert deeply distraught, across the car with him, now in the midst of an all out meltdown. Carson approached the man politely.  
“ Excuse me I’m looking for this boy’s father. Have you by any chance seen a young man with long white-ish hair he’s, usually making a sort of unpleasant expression. He’s wearing a blue velvet cloak and very strong perfume…”

The old man smiled.  
“As a matter of fact I have.”  
He looked over to Gilbert who had managed to quiet his sobs somewhat .  
“ Your Papa isn’t the type of person that’s easy to forget. He went that way to his private car.”  
Gilbert lit up, racing at full speed in the direction the man pointed in until he collided with his uncle’s familiar slender frame.  
“Papa!”  
He cried out launching himself at Auguste’s waist.  
Auguste stood at the entrance of his lavish private car paralalyzed mid step disgusted by the touch. He was tired from having to rise so early and longed for nothing more than to sink into his nice velvet booth with his book. He felt something on him, squeezing tightly around his middle. He shuttered. Touched, by a CHILD on the train, this was unacceptable. He glared at the porter who held open the door, gawking at him like a simpleton.  
“ I don’t have a..”  
He murmured under his breath,trying to free himself from the small arms constricting him. Suddenly he stopped. That voice… he gasped. Eyes wide in disbelief, he felt as if he’d seen a ghost  
“ Gilbert?”

Auguste grabbed onto Gilbert’s wrist tightly with a gloved hand, aggressively pulling him into the car.  
“ Gilbert, what are you doing here? HOW did you get here?”  
Gilbert clung to his uncle, unsure as to whether his raised voice came from anger or concern.  
“ Please Augu don’t send me back, I promise I’ll be good.”  
Auguste pulled Gilbert into a tight embrace. His heart racing at the thought of all of the ways things could have gone irreparably wrong.  
“ Gilbert calm yourself, I have absolutely no intention of sending you home. But I’d like an answer, how on earth did you get here alone, you could have been killed you know or worse!.”  
Gilbert relaxed the weight of uncertainty lifted from his shoulders, he felt reassured in spite of his uncle’s frantic almost scolding response. he answered.  
“ Oh, that. I didn’t come alone. I had help from a very special person.”  
“Oh is that so..”  
Auguste trailed off, having no doubt in his mind that it was the English manservant Gilbert was speaking about.

“ Lord Auguste, this man says he’s with you.”  
“Speak of the devil..” Auguste thought. Catching a glimpse of the man’s plain face in the doorway from where he was seated. He wasn’t particularly thrilled with him, despite Gilbert’s supposed fondness for the man.  
“He may come in..”  
Auguste said hesitantly. Carson entered, bowing before them with the flourish of a knight before his master.  
“You’re very kind sir, I hope you aren’t angry, I didn’t know what to do and I thought you wouldn’t mind because you know,you two are so close…”  
Auguste stopped him, unimpressed by his self flagellation, and hardly interested in hearing the end of his meandering sentence.  
“ I’m not angry, Quite the contrary I’m very grateful for what you did to help Gilbert.”  
He gestured to the booth across from them.  
“ You may sit down.”  
“Yes of course sir.”  
The brown haired man sat down timidly. The room was large but it gave him a claustrophobic feeling. The two of them looking back at him amidst all the finery like twin porcelain dolls .

Gilbert beamed at both men, brimming with excitement. He bounced up and down in his seat contented, and enthralled by Auguste’s carriage. his eyes dancing in circles. The place dripped with extravagance, decorated in gold and deep forest green, with expensive linens and an intricately sculpted chandelier. It was the only type of backdrop either of them could imagine Auguste in front of.  
“Oh Augu!”  
Gilbert exclaimed.  
“a train car with beautiful paintings and wallpaper! And all this room just for you!”  
The train hit a bump and Gilbert’s soft cheek brushed against his uncle’s shoulder.  
“ Yes, but from now on I suppose… It will be ours.”  
“ From now on it’s the three of us against the world!”  
Gilbert exclaimed.

Auguste’s heart sank. He smiled trying to hide his lack of enthusiasm, There was not meant to be a “three of them”. A nuisance, a hindrance to his little paradise for two. But Gilbert was very fond of him so he obliged.  
“Oh yes, Carson I suppose you’ll be coming along too. I must warn you however I’m not used to having a manservant. So you’ll have to learn to make yourself useful in some other regard.”  
He was distracted for a moment by a sudden unexpected pang of hunger.  
“I’m starved, I’m sure you two must be hungry as well. How about I order us some breakfast to celebrate.”

He was in a good mood, and ordered everything on the breakfast menu in triplicate. A bit excessive, but it was a treat to watch Gilbert's eyes light up as the porters brought the spread out. And presented it to them on two large very crowded silver trays. He sat quietly admiring the child as he gorged himself. There was a great charm to the way he ate that he hadn’t quite noticed in Marseille. Wild and uninhibited he surrendered himself to the pure sensual pleasure of each bite. His bare fingers gripping tart early spring berries, and dribbling juice down his chin. He hadn’t a thought in his head of manners or propriety. moaning in delight at the complexity of the flavor and aroma of the aged double cream cheese he ate straight from the knife. And again with surprise, as his teeth cut the crisp paper thin buttery layers his pain au chocolat when he met it’s bittersweet center. Auguste dabbed a napkin to his lips pushing his plate away after eating his fill.  
“ You’ve enjoyed your meal, haven't you Gilbert.”  
Gilbert nodded, his petal pink lips shimmering with butter and bacon grease.  
“Oh yes, will we have breakfast like this everyday in Paris? I feel like a prince!”  
“If it will make you this happy then maybe we shall.” 

It wasn’t long until Gilbert dozed off, lulled to sleep by the gentle sway of the train . His blonde head resting on Auguste’s chest. His tiny body neatly hooked around his uncle’s torso as if it were made to fit there.

“My lovely Gilbert, is there any being in all of creation as perfect as you are?”

You have run away, you’ve escaped from beneath Pale’s heavy. Bolder and stronger than I have ever been. You are lucky Gilbert. you have been saved of many things, your body still fresh and pure as virgin snow. You have grown up like a wildflower beautiful and coarse, untouched by the world. I promise Gilbert, I will not tame you. Make my arms your sanctuary and grow. Grow up healthy and bloom, let your soft petals fall away and let me know the intricacies of your childish heart. Auguste stared in awe of him. He reached out a gentle hand and brought it to Gilbert's angelic face, brushing away a clump of curls that fell over his eyes. 

“ I pray you’ll be happy with me.”

Auguste felt Gilbert’s weight shift below him. His soft body slid in place, landing with his legs straddling Auguste’s right thigh. He let out a high pitched yawn, a sleepy smile gracing his lips.  
“ Augu ?”  
“Yes Gilbert?”  
Gilbert wrapped his hand tightly around one of Auguste’s fingers.  
“ You promise you’ll always love me, and I can stay with you forever, and you’ll never make me go back?”  
Auguste let out a soft sigh rubbing Gilbert’s forehead with the thumb of his free hand.  
“ I promise. Now go back to sleep.”

“ It was in that moment with his hand around mine”

“ That a boy of nine became the one who owned my heart.”


	8. Life at Leisure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly just cute fluff and Auguste creeping on Gilbert. Spoiling him to make up for lost time and his own ulterior motives.  
> Gilbert wears so many cute and overly fancy outfits in the manga I always imagined Auguste took a great deal of pleasure in dressing him up like a little doll.  
> I had to do research on the history of ice cream to pick the flavors for the ice cream scene. I think Auguste would eat something that tastes like perfume lol.  
> It's honestly kinda difficult to portray Gilbert's personality in this fic. Since the majority of his personality comes from his upbringing by Auguste it's unclear what his natural inclinations are other than loving animals and nature. So I'm just kind of winging it.
> 
> As always I hope you all enjoy, all feedback is appreciated  
> <3

Chapter #8

It was a great shock on that temperate spring afternoon. That Lord Auguste Beau had returned through the back garden, to his Paris home. Suddenly and without notice just as he had left two years ago. 

Rebec his head butler insisted upon being the first to greet him. He was faithful, hardworking, well groomed and well mannered. And Auguste harbored a non insignificant affection for him.  
“Lord Auguste… Welcome home.”  
Auguste could see in his butler’s eyes the effort it took for him not to open his arms and grab in friendly embrace.  
“It’s so nice to see you again.”  
Rebec stared back at his master, who was usually a tempest. As a delightfully calm grin graced his slender lips. His white face blending in with sculpted marble busts and semi-nude torsos that decorated the parlour where they stood. As his eyes traveled down he nearly gasped at the child that clung so tenderly to Auguste’s hip. He was tiny and strikingly beautiful with cherry lips and soft gold curls.  
“ This is Gilbert. He will be living with us from now on. Have someone set up the bedroom next to mine for him, and make sure dinner is on the table by four.”  
“ Yes Sir.”  
He did not question where the child came from or why he was there. He had worked for Auguste long enough to have learned to trust him blindly, in his judgement and, in his intentions. It made things easier that way.  
Auguste turned his head to Carson who stood sheepishly in the corner of the room awaiting his new master’s call.  
“And that is Carson, My… ahem... new manservant.”  
He spoke slowly and hesitantly.Saying the words out loud felt like a commitment, a defiance of himself in the face of a witness.  
“Have quarters prepared for him as well.”  
“Of course sir.”  
Rebec watched delighting in the novel circumstance. As Auguste gave Gilbert a tender pat on the back. When he turned to him he used that soft sweet buttery tone that he usually reserved for a catch he was trying to woo. But with no tinge of cynicism, no sly lowered eyelids and self satisfied smirk.  
“Gilbert, this is Rebec. He’s my butler and a dear friend of mine he’s going to show you around the house while I lay down for a bit.”  
Gilbert pouted at him.  
“Gilbert, don’t look like that. I promise you won’t miss me it will only be a little nap and then we can do whatever you please.”  
“ Augu ?”  
“Yes Gilbert?”  
“ What should I do with my rabbit.”  
Gilbert reached his hand into his coat. And swiftly pulled out the tiny white rabbit that he cupped in his hands, proudly displayed for all of the men to see.  
Auguste pulled back in surprise.  
“Gilbert have you had her with you this whole time ?!”  
Gilbert nodded  
“ All right”  
Auguste groaned looking to his side to Rebec for counsel.  
“I suppose you’ll also have to figure out what to do with the rabbit.”  
Carson piped up from the corner where he was still standing.  
“I can take care of the rabbit sir.”  
“Thank you”  
Auguste gave Gilbert a squeeze from the side as they parted ways. He descended the marble staircase up to his bedroom. As did he peered down at Gilbert over the railing. From a flight above the crown of his head appeared no different from a daffodil. He imagined himself plucking him from the ground, tiny and golden and taking him up the bedroom as he slept.

Auguste awoke the next morning. It should’ve made him feel calmer to sleep somewhere that was wholly his own. But as he sat down at the small breakfast table he had set out to make dining with Gilbert more intimate he began to question his own judgement. He looked at the oriental vase between them, bringing a hand up to the white hyacinths and absent mindedly plucking off one of the florets from it’s elegant spire.

**“Would Paris Corrupt him?”**

Garden parties, banquets, the opera. All poised with silver tongues to seduce him, to convert his petite forest nymph into that most thoroughly loathsome of creatures.

**A Society boy.**

A shallow vain little creature. No better than a trained well bred pet, made to sing and dance and do parlor tricks. A child who lives and dies by the world's approval. Who prances about like an empty headed show dog. Parroting back to an audience of lords and ladies a vocabulary of faux intellectualism and calculated popular opinions . “ a good boy.” “a well mannered boy.” “ a _mature boy_.” A creature fawned over by giggling young girls. Soon after initiated to the boasting and foppery expected in his sex.  
Would he lose that raw untamed nature that had inflamed Auguste’s passions and kept his eternal fascination? Or worse yet to be gazed at by another man one would do more than look on with tender adoration. It would be naive of him not to consider it. He knew very well the city's well concealed underbelly of filth and debauchery.  
It was unquestionable that within Gilbert’s young body grew a sublime allure. Swinging those delicate young hips as he walked, prideful but not yet cognizant of the gift he held. Not yet aware of it, innocent to his uncommon beauty. He was pure, perfect a raw gemstone not yet carved. Those in the unclean world would defile him, take his dignity, his pride. Make him a glittering curio to be admired. A thing to be displayed and dissected. And Used as a hole for men like Pale, who would shatter him before he could begin to become refined, polished, exquisite. He would have the life that had been taken from Auguste when was small. He would be who Auguste could not.

**There was something far more special in him, something, a vibrancy that made everything feel alive. Something Auguste could never have. Something that must be preserved it all costs**

God how he wished he had saved his money and bought a vacation home. Some darling little place by the ocean. Isolated, peaceful, a world all their own. A Villa on the shoreline would suit him, He could imagine it now. His lithe body stripped down to just his underthings emerging from the water glittering in the sun. Splashing and playing by the tide, collecting shells and smoothe marble-like sea glass. All while dear uncle _Augu_ sat in the shade gazing on with caring eyes sipping cocktails.  
To be raised in nature was a necessity for such a child. Someplace out of society's prying eyes.

Gilbert looked around the vase, his blond curls bobbing after him.  
“ Augu what are you thinking about?”  
“ Oh nothing Gilbert, just a silly little fantasy.”  
He twisted the stem of the flower he had been fondling, breaking the bloom off with a snap. He held it between two fingers, reaching across the table to tuck it nearly behind Gilbert’s exposed ear.  
“I hope you enjoy your breakfast, I had it prepared just for you.”  
Sweet crepes with fresh raspberries and whipped cream, Poached eggs and cocoa.  
Gilbert nodded enthusiastically, licking a dollop of whipped cream from his lips.  
“ It’s wonderful like eating a cloud!”  
He looked across to Auguste’s empty place setting, as the man removed a cigar from a decorated wooden box placed there by a serving boy.  
“ Augu you aren’t eating anything? are feeling sick?”  
Auguste lit his Cigar taking a long drag. The pungent scent of the smoke intermingling with the sugar and vanilla of Gilbert’s breakfast.  
“I never have an appetite this early in the morning.”  
“ But Augu you need your streng..”  
Auguste snapped interrupting him with a scolding hand before he could before he could finish.  
“ Gilbert I won’t hear it !”  
The boy dropped his fork and his lower lip began to tremble.  
“ Gilbert don’t look at me like that!”  
“ And regardless this brings up an important issue I came here to discuss. Now that we’ll be living together there are certain things you must understand. I have no intention to act as your father so I implore you not to treat me as such. We will live side by side as close equal companions, you’ll have a say in household affairs like meals and outings, things of that nature. I’m certain we’ll have a lot of fun but it is necessary that we set up some rules and boundaries. We’re both men of a solitary persuasion and I will try my best not to impose myself on you and I hope you’ll do the same for me. You were raised with a lot of freedom and I don’t intend to change that, just a few simple rules that I’m sure a smart boy like you will have no trouble with.”  
Auguste reached for the small cup of black coffee placed for him at the table, he brought it to his lips taking a dainty sip. He watched as the flushed petals of Gilbert's mouth krinkled into a frown. Auguste lowered the cup to it’s saucer and cleared his throat ignoring Gilbert’s protest, he opened his mouth to speak.  
“ Now Gilbert, the first rule is simple: we'll share three meals a day together here at this table, at dinner time you’ll be allowed wine if you take it, and dessert of whatever variety you fancy. The second rule is that under no circumstance are you allowed to wake me. IT IS very important that I have my rest so unless there is an emergency, you are to let me sleep until I wake up naturally. Do you understand?”  
Gilbert nodded sinking back into his chair sheepishly.  
“ Marvellous! It’s good to be on the same page isn’t it. Now onto the next, You’re Carson told you don’t enjoy doing your studies. Well we’ll have to change that.”  
He ended his last line on an attempted playful smile.

“ I intend you to have a proper well rounded education. It’s necessary even for someone like you with an unorthodox upbringing. In the arts of course, as well as science and mathematics. You’ll be required to study three hours a day, I hope you will agree that it is a sensible number.”  
Gilbert stared down his eyes fixed on the delicate lace trim of the tablecloth. He wiggled his fingers in the holes of the weblike fabric, making Auguste cringe with each stretch of the white threads. Without thinking he reached across the table and grabbed Gilbert's wrist.  
“Gilbert stop! don’t tear it.”  
Gilbert pulled away startled, his emerald eyes wide and fretting.  
“Augu please don’t be mad, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  
Auguste sighed releasing his grip.  
“It really isn’t as serious as all that!”  
“ Gilbert I’m NOT your father! I don’t want you treating me like a tyrant.”  
Auguste placed a hand on Gilbert’s chin, gently running his thumb along Gilbert’s cheek.  
“ Now let us get back to the important business at hand. I’ll be your instructor for lessons, We’ll have fun I promise,We’ll read all of my favorite books together and discuss the themes. And I’ll never talk down to you, Intellectual stimulation is important. Now for the next. I don’t want you leaving the house without my permission. The grounds and the woods nearby are fine, you can play there as much as you like. But I wouldn’t like you roaming the streets and going by other people's houses. If you want to surprise me with something, Carson or Rebec will be happy to accompany you. Oh Gilbert, and I don’t want you bringing home strange wild animals without asking me.”  
Gilbert stomped his foot Interrupting his uncle.  
“But Whyyyyy!?”  
He moaned.  
“Gilbert! Don’t get whiny at me, I don’t want my home run over by forest animals ! And it’s important that you understand animals have ticks and diseases! Especially rats! That’s another rule: no touching rats. And finally, I’ll put you to bed every night at nine pm after you get a bath.”  
“ I have to bathe EVERY night!”  
Gilbert blurted. Auguste smiled letting out a small chuckle.  
“ Of course you do. Doesn't everyone?”  
“Papa didn’t make me!”  
“Well your _Papa_ didn’t care about you like I do.  
Auguste rose from his chair after finishing his coffee, smoothing down his silk dressing gown.  
“ I’ll take you around the city today, We’ll have fun. We have a lot of shopping to do. You barely packed anything when you ran away.”  
He grabbed the hem of Gilbert's blue cotton shirt. The seam had frayed edges and was sloppily constructed. It felt rough on his fingertips.

_the thought of something so harsh on Gilbert’s soft chest made him cringe._

“ Yes, yes, First thing on the agenda is to buy you some proper clothes.”  
His voice came out spacey and wistful. As his hand stayed glued to Gilbert’s collar. He was frozen in that moment

. 

_He smells like berries and cream..._

“Augu?”  
He quickly pulled his hand away after an extended amount of time, tucking it neatly behind his back.  
“ Run along Gilbert I need to get ready.”

They first went to a tailor shop. The child mannequins stared back at them through the window panes with painted pink smiles. Auguste looked into the place with a gleam in his eyes, Imagining his lovely Gilbert in each ensemble displayed enticingly for their perusal.  
“Here we are, proper clothes for a pretty boy like you.”  
“Augu you told me we’d do something fun today, you said you’d take me around the city remember?”  
Gilbert whined, clinging to the fabric of Auguste’s flowing white cloak as they passed the threshold into the store.  
“ Gilbert, you need proper clothes If I’m going to take you anywhere.”

As they passed through the doorway , a shop girl immediately raced to them. She could anticipate, by the way Auguste carried himself and by the fine fabrics he was draped in that she would make a generous commission attending to them.  
“How may I help you sir?”  
“I need a dressing room for my nephew.”  
The girl nodded, smiling at Gilbert who still clung to his uncle’s hip.  
“Of course. You gentlemen pick out whatever catches your eye and I’ll have it prepared.”

The shop’s interior was far bigger than Gilbert expected from the storefront. Auguste sat him down on a velvet stool underneath a framed portrait of a little boy dressed in white with a gaudy fringed velvet sash. And he watched kicking his legs, as his Uncle walked back and forth listening to the clack of his boots on the stark white tile. He gestured theatrically his cloak flowing behind him, to each piece of clothing illuminated on it’s stand by electric lights shaped like seashells. “All of this is for me?” Gilbert thought. As the shop attendant’s arms grew heavy, overflowing with garments.  
“That will be enough for now.”  
Auguste stated. standing in place impatiently waiting to be ushered to the dressing room, and to make Gilbert his little dress-up doll.  
“I’ll go tell the little one you’re ready.”

The dressing room was large enough to comfortably fit the two of them, tucked away in the back of the shop behind a velvet curtain. Gilbert admired himself and his uncle in the wide mirror that stretched nearly from the floor to the ceiling, as Auguste removed his cloak. He compared the sharp lines of his uncle’s form through the pleats of his flowing dress shirt to his own childish body. He was so delicate, unlike any man he had ever seen, slender and ethereal like a fairy prince. 

**Would He mature into a body like that?**

Or would he mature like Pale, towering and heavy with fists like hammers.

Auguste sat down on the bench with his legs crossed next to a stack of neatly folded sets of little shirts and trousers.  
“ Come here Gilbert, let me help you.”  
He placed his hand on Gilbert's waist, untucking his faded blue cotton shirt from his trousers and undoing it’s buttons. His white gloved hand brushed across the boy’s soft sunkissed shoulders. He giggled.  
“Augu you don’t have to...”  
Auguste stroked his arm gently.  
“ Gilbert you’ll make me very happy, I promise I won’t bite, Indulge me in my little pleasure.”  
“ Augu you're silly!”

Eros or Aphrodite must have been housed in those dressing room walls. Gilbert was immaculate, his body divine! A vision in scarlet trousers trimmed in lace. Everything suited him. Gauzy blouses crowded in ruffles hung exquisitely from his slender arms. Perfectly fitted sailor suits in hues of cyan and navy with glittering gold trim, made him a siren. He modeled Velvet caplets and heavy brocade tunics. His soft calves bound in leather garters, lightly indented like fresh clay. Gracefully holding up each embroidered silk stocking. He accentuated each thing he wore. All was Muted by his comparison. He was more vibrant than any dye, leaching color from the scenery with his coquettish smirk. Twirling on his toes at Auguste’s request, the dressing room became his stage. Several times the women at the shop came back to admire him, cooing praises at him as young women do. And remarking repeatedly on their “jealousy” of the pretty young boy being spoiled by his “sweet” and “oh so terribly handsome uncle”

“ Come ON Augu! It’s been three hours, I’m tired of standing and twirling.”  
Gilbert whined squirming as Auguste tied the ribbon laced up the front of another of the dozen silky white, fluffy, ornately trimmed things he had purchased. With the same precision and enthusiasm he did when they began.  
“Hold still. And it has not been three hours, it’s been two at the most.”  
“I’m TIRED, I’ve been standing this whole time. And you’ve just been sitting there having ladies bring you wine.”  
He reached out a hand to smooth the fabric that had bunched around the middle of Gilbert's velvet trousers. Gilbert pouted, pulling away from his touch.  
“ I want ice cream! You promised you’d buy me some.”  
“ I suppose I did. But isn't ice cream a bit much first thing in the morning?”  
“ You’ve already had two glasses of WINE! And it isn’t even morning.”  
“Fine FINE!!”

Auguste got up grabbing Gilbert’s sleeve. The two left the dressing room, and the store both clad in white, Auguste seemed to glide as he walked. Carson walked behind them carrying their impressive collection of boxes all of which Auguste had gotten gift wrapped.

“ This is Paris!”  
Auguste threw out his arms framing the city streets. He watched as Gilbert’s eyes danced, enraptured with the new sites and sounds. Beautiful dresses in candy colored hues, carriages drawn by long legged horses. Shops selling cakes and flowers, neckties and walking canes. Tall buildings with carved swirling arches and strange faces that watched them from above. 

He pulled Gilbert close.  
“ stay by my side and don’t run off”  
As they walked the city streets he grew acutely aware of the passersby that seemed to swarm him. Paranoia set in and his heart began to race. The babe in his arms was stolen property. Returning home meant parties and friends, people would want to see him, people would want to see _them_. He was a sitting duck, easy to pick out of the crowd. A shock of white hair in his white cloak with an emerald clasp in the middle of spring. He drew Gilbert closer and closer as they walked, pressing him tightly to his chest and wrapping the cloak around him.

**How long until he realized they were gone?**

**How long until he came?**

He looked behind them and found a face he recognized. A _“friend”_ he had not left on particularly good terms with. He had been following them. He must’ve been, why, why now? Why was he not allowed one day of peace? He tugged Gilbert’s arm roughly and they crossed the street. Gilbert cheered!  
“ look Augu is that where you bought that pretty ring?”  
He barely perceived the question.  
“ yes Gilbert, very well.”  
The continued walking, in an erratic pattern , retreading the same steps like they were trapped in a maze. They dashed across streets and wove between buildings. Gilbert seemed entirely unaware of his discomfort, he simply pointed giggling to buildings as he passed them, exclaiming.

“Augu, this is where you must drink your coffee and eat your morning croissant.”  
“ And that must be where you buy your boots!”  
“Will you take me to that restaurant Augu? It just looks so beautiful.”  
“Let's go in there !”  
Auguste replied to each question the same with a nod, a pat on the head, and another stride forward. He looked behind him again.Time after time. That damn man was still trailing behind him.

Suddenly he felt Gilbert's tiny hand pawing at his sleeve.He whipped his head around  
“ Augu? Why did we just pass the ice cream parlor?”  
He feigned laughter shifting awkwardly where he stood.  
“ Oh silly me, we did just pass it.”  
He could feel Gilbert’s small form bobbing against him as he skipped towards the white awning labeled “ frozen treats and confections”. Gilbert squealed, gripping his arm and pulling as they grew closer to the destination.  
“ isn’t ice cream divine !”  
Gilbert said as a man opened the door for them as he was leaving.  
“ I thought you told me you’ve never tried it ?”  
“ I haven’t but Carson told me all about it. He said it’s the most divine thing he’s ever tried!”  
Auguste smiled again mimicking interest in his chatter. While his mind raced, still occupied by their pursuer.  
“Yes it’s good.”  
He pulled out a chair for himself at a table for two a few paces away from the door.  
“ Go run along, Gilbert my pet, pick me out something I’ll like and tell the man I’m paying.”  
He was finally able to catch his breath. He watched as Gilbert hopped on his toes like a little wren , pointing at the large drums of thick sweet custard. Auguste exhaled, folding his gloved hands over his middle as he leaned back in his chair. That man wouldn’t follow him into an ice cream parlor at half past noon. He would be able to enjoy his pretty treat, with his pretty boy.

**He heard the chime of bells from the parlor door.**  


In an instant his whole body tensed, He stood up straight, his spine pressed into the cold steel of the chair. He saw the man’s blue pinstriped sleeve, he was cornered, He could not avoid the inevitable.  
“ Hello Auguste, fancy seeing you here. When you left us all two years ago we thought you were dead!”

**Disgustingly saccharine, Infuriatingly familiar.**

He glared back at his so called _friend_ with icy cold eyes. The man continued, clearly unable to take a hint.  
“ It's ridiculous, seeing you out and about in broad daylight, and in an ice cream parlor no less. Lady Elise will have a fit when I tell her I saw you. She took to her bed for a month when you left her without a warning, she was always so fond of you.”  
“I’m well aware”  
Auguste replied, low and through gritted teeth. The man went on with his incessant chatter not giving him even a moment to abruptly behead the conversation before it had begun to come alive. He hadn’t remembered how dull and grating these types could be.  
“ What is it that you’ve been doing all this time, and who is that tiny person that came in here on your arm? Is there a little secret you’ve neglected to tell us about, that you’ve been attending to?”  
Auguste sighed, gently massaging his temples.  
“ That tiny person is Gilbert, my nephew. And where I’ve been, not that it’s any of your concern. Is in Marseille taking a retreat for my health. I don’t want you telling Lady Elise, or anyone else for that matter where I am. Or even that I’m in Paris, let them all go on believing I’m dead for all I care. It will make things easier for me. I won’t have time for your empty frivolities any longer. If you're smart my good sir, you will keep your mouth shut.”

**Do you understand?**

He spoke commandingly. And the man shrunk back, looking at the floor as if he had been called to his schoolmaster for a lashing.  
“ I just wanted to say hello..”  
The man mumbled under his breath.

Soon after he heard the familiar pitter patter of patent leather shoes, and that voice high and sweet as honey that always managed to soothe him.  
“ Augu, Augu! I bought you a surprise. Three scoops, two rose, and one vanilla the man at the counter said they were your favorite.”  
Auguste’s eyes grew wide; he gazed upon the child holding out two cones, each pilled with perfect scoops the size of his fists, as if they were his most precious possessions.  
“ Aren’t you going to ask what kind I got !”  
Before sitting down the little one was soon distracted by the man who had yet to remove himself from their area.  
“ Augu, are you going to introduce me to your friend?”  
“ No Gilbert, he was just leaving.”  
He said with a smile, as he discreetly under the table, kicked the man behind him with the heel of his boot.

Gilbert sat down. And Auguste stared across the table at him with a smile, twirling a piece of silvery-white hair between his fingers.  
“ So Gilbert what ice cream flavors did you get?”  
The boy beamed.  
“ Oh! Pistachio, caramel, and chocolate!”  
“ An interesting combination…”  
He took his own cone from Gilbert’s hand after removing his cotton gloves. He stuck his tongue out, dragging it across the sweet,cold, floral substance. Gilbert began to eat too. Opening his mouth as wide as it could go, and inserting the top of the scoop in a vain attempt to swallow the thing whole. His soft petal pink lips looked bizarre stretched over the round top.  
“ Gilbert stop !that’s not how you eat it.”  
He swatted at him, as a stream of green cream dribbled down the boy’s chin.  
“You lick it, Like this.”  
Auguste licked his ice cream again, this time slowly, dragging his tongue down, the soft pink cream melting against his warm tongue. Gilbert continued eating following suite.

The two of them sat a while. He listened to Gilbert chatter on, and periodically hold up his cone to him so that his dear Augu could sample each flavor. His Ice cream began to melt, down the cone and onto his hand, too distracted by the little marvel before him. His pink tongue, his little legs kicking under the table, the way he hummed to himself in delight as he ate. Quickly Auguste sped up his pace, noticing Gilbert was down to his final scoop, rich dark chocolate.

“Augu what will we do next?”  
“The stationary store I suppose. Then lunch for you, breakfast for me. We’ll need to pick up furniture, and then Gilbert whatever you like.”  
“Whatever I like, a toy store even? A candy store too!!”  
“ Of Course I’ll buy you whatever you’d like.”  
He could hear Gilbert nibbling at the walls of his cone. He looked Auguste’s way.  
“Augu you haven’t finished?”  
Auguste sighed, placing the dripping cone in the boy’s soft hand.  
“ You can have the rest, I’m full and you’ll enjoy it far more than I will.”  
“Oh, I thought you would want more because you’re so big!”  
Gilbert chirped.

**Big….**

Auguste glanced down unsure of how he felt, unsure of what Gilbert meant by calling him that. Big. It was an unusual way to describe him. It suddenly unnerved him, he felt his waist. Did he feel big? Why in that moment, did it so thoroughly get under his skin?  
“ Gilbert please don’t call me big again.”  
Unconsciously he snapped, he saw Gilbert’s frown and instantly felt guilty. He ran a hand through Gilbert’s hair.  
“Finish up my pet, then we’ll go.”

They walked hand in hand down the Paris streets. Auguste was more calm, with Gilbert’s hand around his. They slipped away into the first stationary they came across. And Gilbert developed a new fascination with seals and sealing wax. Picking up the glossy curved handles of each one on display while Auguste compared inks. He bought for him, The store’s most intricately decorated “G” , a set with white painted handles each brandished on their gold underside with flowers and forest animals, And sealing wax in every color the store carried . As well as for himself the envelopes and custom letterheads he had come in for. To watch him play with them was amusing, an object made for a man in his diminutive hand.

As they left Gilbert stopped him and pleaded at his feet in front of a candy store across the way. Whimpering like a puppy. They went in and he decided to indulge a bit, in a bag of every variety of candy the store had to offer. He stood by Gilbert’s side and watched as other children, with their plump mothers’ and over tired fathers’ marveled at him. They pouted and complained and begged. And He smiled on as they did. Grand gestures, Ludacris, spending they were all worth it to see his baby smile. And at the chance of a tired, sighing, sloppy kiss on the way home. He stroked Gilbert’s shoulder as the man at the counter bagged up the final batch treats, pink and yellow swirled taffy.

_Gilbert my pet, I would buy you the moon and the stars if I could…_

“ What next”  
Gilbert asked sneaking a fluffy white marshmallow from a satchel, leaving a trail of powdered sugar fingerprints on his brand new blouse. Auguste cringed.  
“ I’m going to have to start managing his eating habits, If he goes on like this.”  
He thought to himself.  
“ Lunch I suppose …”

A flash of gold curls covering one eye, red painted lips, round emerald eyes. The face of a child, an angel, a harlot.  
“Oh Gilbert.”  
Auguste gasped. As a doll that appeared Gilbert’s exact mirror image stared back at him through the window pane.  
“ We must buy him, He’s your perfect match.”  
Swiftly he dragged Gilbert after him, as if he had irrationally feared someone would buy him before they reached the door.  
“Run along, pick anything else out you might like.”  
Gilbert smiled  
“ I wish there was a doll here that looked pretty like you…”

**Oh, Gilbert…**  
How I adore you…  
How I adore the sweet things that spill from your lips.

They left the place with a myriad of wind-up toys, and painted tin soldiers, dolls, board games, and plush velveteen rabbit that rivaled Gilbert in size. 

This day had put quite the strain on his pocket book, and on his manservant who seemed to come closer to faltering and toppling the mountain of ribbon and wrappings he held, with every passing step. But he Auguste, felt lighter than air. They stopped at a café, where they dined heartily. And he listened attentively as Gilbert spoke of everything his heart desired, It didn’t matter what he said, what mattered was how he said it. His voice sweet as honey coated him richly resonating in his eardrums, the fluttering in his voice when he was excited, the click of his tongue when he was at loss for a word. He was a symphony, he could have listened for hours.  
He had polished off a rather large serving and left feeling heavy and lethargic, his fatigue from walking began to creep up on him. Of course Gilbert was a ball of energy skipping ahead as his pace staggered. Suddenly he shot off like a bullet, at full speed into the road. Auguste panicked, he remembered Marseille and Gilbert dirty and bloodied. He called out  
“GILBERT COME BACK THIS INSTANT!”  
He chased after him full and weary, each second that passed and Gilbert grew closer to possible demise. He was quick, sprite like and nimble, and Auguste was unable to catch up to his pace. He crumpled to the ground clutching his stomach, flushed and panting. While helplessly, he watched as Gilbert towed in front of speeding carriages.  
“GILBERT PLEASE !”  
He shouted again at the top of his lungs.

Gilbert dove down, Auguste’s heart stopped, he held his breath, he clutched his chest so hard it stung. Suddenly another figure dashed in front of him, tall brunet, sturdily built. It was him. Carson. He sped forward, after tossing their boxes into the arms of the doorman of a nearby hotel. When he reached the street , he lunged himself at Gilbert who crawled before a horse’s powerful hooves, a hair away from being trampled. The man slid on the pavement, his arms around Gilbert’s waist jerking him back. Both bodies covered in dust and fresh scrapes. Carson picked Gilbert up carrying him across the street to him through labored breath. Auguste got up dusting himself off and taking the boy into his arms.

“ Augu, you look so pale like you’re going to faint.”  
Gilbert spoke dreamy and quiet as if nothing had even happened at all.  
“ And your hair is all messy, are you okay?”

**Are you okay…**

“ No I’m not okay Gilbert, what on earth could compel you to do such a thing were you trying to get yourself killed!”  
Auguste shouted frantically, his whole body still buzzed trembling with adrenaline.  
“ New rule, I don’t ever want you doing something like this again! Do you understand? What is wrong with you do you have a death wish! Do you want to put us both in an early grave!”  
“B-but Augu I had to …”  
Tears began to well in his eyes.  
“ Gilbert I don’t want to hear it! There is no justification for what you did there is nothing more important than your safety!”  
Auguste turned around on his heels gesturing at Carson.  
“ Get our things and the carriage”  
Gilbert began sobbing into Auguste’s white cloak. Beating his shoulder with tiny fists  
“Augu it isn’t fair, I-I I had too I had to save the baby! You said we would...”  
“WE ARE GOING HOME GILBERT. AND THAT IS THE END!”  
He mounted the carriage, Gilbert still firmly in his arms. The road home was long and silent, peppered with the occasional tearful sniffle from Gilbert or tiny cough from the suffocating smoke from Auguste’s cigar. Gilbert placed a hesitant hand on Auguste’s thigh, and in spite of his anger he allowed it there for the remainder of their ride.

When they arrived home, Auguste quickly changed into a soft silk robe Rebec had waiting for him.

  
“ Tell Gilbert I’m going to my room to rest”  
He was exhausted from a day of too much excitement. He staggered into his room collapsing head first onto the feather bed. He groaned ,turning off the lamp and climbing under the duvet cover. He dozed off quickly. After what felt like only a few minutes of sleep he felt a gentle tapping on the top of his head. He opened his eyes heavy with sleep. To be greeted with the form of Gilbert, uncharacteristically demure. Hunched, whimpering with his eye’s on the floor. Auguste yawned.  
“Gilbert, what is it, you know I told you not to…”  
The boy interrupted, his words flowing out like a rapid crashing and jumbling into one another as he spoke.  
“ Augu please don’t be angry anymore, I promise I’ll be good! Don't send me back please!“  
Auguste looked down noticing something small cupped in the boy’s hands. Gilbert brought it up to where he could see.  
“ This is why I had to do it Augu! She’s just a little baby she would have been killed.”  
He held out another tiny soft rabbit. This one was a light golden caramel brown with splotches of white around its tail and nose. His own safety had never occurred to him. Only the life of something precious and helpless. _He was a saint, a knight on a white horse._  
“ Oh, Gilbert .”  
Auguste sighed.  
“ Go put her with the other.”

Gilbert nodded, he raced off and back again almost as quick. By the time he returned Auguste was back in bed half asleep on his side. In the twilight between wake and dreaming he felt something tugging on his arm. A small warm body slipping into the bed beside him. Wiggling and tucking himself under his arm. Auguste reached out putting his arm around the boy’s waist. Pulling him tight to his chest, Their bodies pressed together perfectly matched like a pair of stacked spoons. He listened to Gilbert’s breaths slow and steady muffled through the covers. His hair tickling Auguste’s exposed neck. He could picture him, peaceful curled up, a little angel, In vivid detail even with his eyes squeezed shut.  
“ I love you..”  
He heard those three words clear as day. Muffled by the covers followed by a sweet high pitched yawn.

**I  
Love  
You**

Pure and tender and deeply earnest. I love you. It was the first time in so many years that someone had said that and really meant it. I love YOU. To be loved is to be known. Something about this child had made him give himself over so intimately and wholly to him. To be seen at his weakest brutalized at his brother’s hand, pathetic, and small . To be not pitied but embraced. It was a powerful form of love, an all consuming force. Something he had silently longed for all his life without knowing. He bent down kissing his Gilbert on the crown of his golden head. Whispering up against him.

**I love you too my little one...**


End file.
